


Mysterious Ways

by GreeneySilvery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, BADASS HERMIONE GRANGER, Badass Harry Potter, Cellist Draco Malfoy, Clever Ron Weasley, Creature Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter is older then Draco Malfoy, M/M, Magical London, Muggle London, Muggle raised Draco Malfoy, Multi, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Royal Academy of Music, Second War with Voldemort, Soulmates, Sweet Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Blaise Zabini, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, magic bound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 69,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreeneySilvery/pseuds/GreeneySilvery
Summary: The second wizarding war lasts until 2002. Voldemort, in possession of a body of his own, has vowed to torture each Muggle until they deliver what he most desires: the power to destroy The Boy Who Live.When Harry Potter meets Dray Black, all of Albus Dumbledore's theories vanish like dust. The Order's desires for Harry to find the power spoken of in the prophecy creates chaos in the mind of the black-haired young man. Until Mad-Eye Moody's eyes fall on Dray Black and what the boy really hides inside.However, in his selfishness, Harry will try to keep Dray Black at all costs. No alterations or changes. Only the sweet boy he met one autumn afternoon in a London park.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 252
Kudos: 244





	1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

Harry had never in his life stopped to imagine what life would be like after Hogwarts. However, now that he was on his feet, with the night falling on him, he could tell that everything was different. Snow fell gently on his hair, as his feet stopped in front of the place where his feet had guided him.

A smile appeared on his lips, as he saw the little Muggle children laughing and dancing to the rhythm of a sound that came from someone else's fingers. Innocent eyes and childish features, rejoicing to the beat of the music.

"Another song, Drake," a girl's voice reached his ears like a kind of shouted prayer. "Another one, yes?"

Suddenly the cry of joy that escapes from the lips of the girl, makes me look up and rest my eyes on the most beautiful image I have ever admired.

Hair as blond as the rays of the sun itself, shining as if hundreds of diamonds were entwined in its strands; hands so milky, with long and delicate fingers dance on the neck of an instrument, whose name I do not remember anything about.

However, the sound that surrounds all that place in the park, makes me feel at peace. How, if the fact that Voldemort was still alive was nothing more than a simple nightmare, nothing more than a bitter memory. And at that precise moment, the face of that silver-haired angel rises and I can observe the exact color of his eyes.

Liquid silver with small blue specks, stolen from the surface of the ocean, pass by its irises, while a smile of pure happiness rests on his lips; his fingers dancing on the neck.

"Who knows what this piece is called?" and the sound changes to a more intense one, and at the same time deeper.

Something is stirring inside me, and I feel completely hypnotized by the sound that surrounds me and lulls me, filling me with something I haven't felt in a long time.

"It is..." and all the children look at each other, while some scream with excitement. "It's... a marsupial!"

And the most beautiful sound escapes from the lips of the silver-eyed blonde.

"Mazurca," he corrects her fondly, as the melody changes. "But, you were close enough."

The wand in my pants pocket vibrates and I take my eyes off the beautiful vision in front of my eyes.

My mind brings me back to the reality. Horcruxes are not going to destroy themselves.

And if Voldemort wasn't killed soon, this beautiful blond might be next.

I turn on my heel, trying to engrave in my memory the image that my eyes have just witnessed. Trying to engrave it for all eternity with fire in my heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the chapter title you can find from who point of view this chapter is.

OCTOBER 9th, 2002

HARRY

"Good morning, gentlemen," Robard's voice makes my companions and I turn directly to see him. "As will you know He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named..." begins Robards.

"Voldemort," the head of the Unspeakables tells him, shaking the hood of her robes down. "You can say it, Robards."

"Voldemort," and I see him shrug along with half the other people present in the room. "He has attacked the Muggle world again."

I sigh deeply, the war has lasted more than I thought. Dumbledore continues to lead the Order of the Phoenix most of the time, trying to figure out what's the last thing missing in order to defeat Voldemort. However, it has not been easy. Voldemort has knowledge of magic that even Dumbledore himself has no knowledge about how it works.

"As many of you may know, Corban Yaxley was placed under the command of the Wizengamot yesterday morning and under veritaserum stated that He-Who-Most-Not-Be-Named has plans for a person." Robards sighs and his eyes fall on the Unspeakable's head. "His name is Draco Black," Robard says, as he waves his wand and immediately a manilla folders fly towards the three aurors and the two unspeakable in the room. “A magician born in Great Britain a month before the first war in the British wizarding world began. Taken to France being a twenty days years old, Draco Black is a mystery to us. We don't know who the male parent is, however his mother is Narcissa Black,” says Robards, waving his wand again and a portrait rising behind him. "That's the only thing we know for sure."

I see Robards sigh and then his gaze moves to the other side of the room and his eyes are right on the body of the unspeakable's head.

"Narcissa Black was killed on July 24th, 1980," says Nadja Neekeal, head of the Unspeakable. “The problem is that no trace of her son was found with her. We have no idea where the boy is, who must now be a man like all of you,” Neekeal sighs and rubs her eyes with one hand. "The problem is that the Black family has one of the purest lineage and its magic is strong. We think Voldemort wants that power."

I look at Ron and he looks at me.

"If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wants that power it is because he knows something about the child that we ignore." Robards says and I immediately see him look out. "We don't know what his face is like, how old he appears to be, what his magic signature is or his essence, we just can assume what his age is." Robards finishes saying, while his eyes wander around the place. "But, not even that is granted."

Neekeal is thinking so heavily that I can hear her thoughs moving at great speed.

"We don't know whether he is dead or alive," faced with that statement, my gaze travels directly to Robards.

"That is absurd," says Lion Moon immediately. "We are going to conduct an investigation to try and find someone we do know nothing about, or if he is alive, dead or if his name has been changed?"

Neekeal looks at him with serious, cold eyes. So far neither of the two unspeakables in the room has speaked. I'm sure Neekeal won't let them whimper like Robards let us do.

"We are not assigning the case to you, Mr. Moon," Robbards says in a serious and unfriendly tone. "I'm assigning it to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley." And with that I know that this case is ours and it will be difficult as hell.

Why did I wanted to be Auror in the first place?

"Auror Moon, your job will be to prepare a team of Aurors for when Potter and Weasley have found the place where Draco Black resides on or, in other circumstances, his corpse."

I immediately look at Ron and see him turn pale.

"De... dead?" I hear him say in a whisper. "Dead like in a grave?"  
  
If this wasn't so gloomy, I'd be laughing.

"Not just in a grave, Mr. Weasley," Robards murmurs. "It doesn't matter where Mr. Black is, alive, dead, or ready to be put in a body bag," and I see how his eyes sparkle, Ron's face is a little green around the edge. "We have to be ready to kidnap him and take him to a safe place."

Everyone's eyes are on Neekeal.

"Kidnapping is punishable by law," says one of the unspeakables. "By our laws and muggle laws too."

"Not this time," Robards says quickly. "If Voldemort wants him, alive or dead, it is because the Black family is hiding something and that child is the key to a door. The Dark Lords needs him to advance and perhaps, win this war." Robards sighs. "We have the consent of the Minister of Magic to carry out this operation."

I sigh deeply.

"Where will we take him if we find him alive?" Moon asks.

"Or dead." Murmur Ron.

"To France," Robards replies. "You and your team will be in charge of put together a safe house for the boy in France."

"It's going to need wards and other bunch of high security shit."

"You will be working with one of my people." Neekeal say earnestly, without even looking in Moon direction.

I immediately wonder what the hell Robards is thinking, but a glance from Ron makes me keep quiet.

"I want the boy in our hands before Voldemort can take him, is that clear?" Robards asks us. I nod as soft as I can. "You can leave, Aurors. You have twenty days to find the kid." Robards says in a serious tone and I immediately see the Unspeakables start to leave behind their leader and I wonder why they were here.

"Are we really going to kidnap someone who may be alive, dead or kidnapped by other people?" I whisper and still Robards listens to me.

"Most likely kidnapped by Death Eaters," I hear Moon mumbling.

"That's right, Mr. Potter," he tells me firmly. "We will kidnap someone who may be alive, dead, or kidnapped, so I hope you both will be ready for that."

When my shift ends, I close my eyes and focus on one of the darkest areas near my favorite place in all of London. I close my eyes and feel my whole body contract to reappear in a dark alley.

I put my hands in the pockets of my jacket, while my feet guide me through an old park, full of lush trees and benches as white as the snow in winter. And I feel it inside me, with each step I take, I can feel the soft hum of a magical being in this place.

But, love is magical on its own way Harry. Reminds me the voice of Hermione inside my head.

And just a couple of meters further on, I can see a bright blonde head sitting on the grass, a dark colored blanket is the only thing that separates him from the cold ground. From this distance, he seems so fragile and small and my heart contracts at the thought that he is fragile compared to a wizard. However, the little spark of magic inside him makes me feel hope.

Hope to know that maybe, soon things will change. I put my invisibility cloak on and sit on a bench, as I watch him turn the pages of a book that seems to be almost in tatters, and I feel a smile coming to my lips. I see him shiver and take out my wand to cast a warming charm on him. Immediately, I see him pull his jacket over his hands, while a smile plays on his lips and his body sticks closer to the trunk of the old tree.

I stay in silence, just watching him pass the page of his book. His hands are delicates and pale, and I wonder if they will feel as soft as they look. I smile while thinking that this muggle is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.


	3. Chapter 3

OCTOBER 10th, 2002

HARRY

"This is all I could get in the records department," Ron tells me, as he tosses a manila folder with a few sheets at my desk. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

I lift my eyes from the memo Robards just sent regarding all the cases that were ours, mine and Ron's, to give us the list of new Aurors that are going to deal with those investigations. Immediately, I see a manila folder in the corner named after Narcissa Black and I immediately feel cold inside.

"Why does Voldemort want someone who may be alive, paraplegic, or dead?" I ask aloud, to nothing in particular.  
  
Ron's face turns to pure curiosity and I grab my wand with one hand and cast a copy enchantment on the pages, which immediately double. I stand up and take off the robes of the aurors to feel more comfortable, a pair of black jeans and a T-shirt from the Ramones.

“Narcissa Black was born in London, in Saint Mungo's. Her parents were Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black,” Ron tells me out loud. The magical photos of the both of them are lifted up into the air and attached to the black board the office has.

"Then, thing got complicated because purebloods never let their kids wander around Mungo's." Ron murmur and I feel a bit sorry about that.

I stare at the two people in the photos, while something inside me stirs uneasily.

"Put the name Evan Rosier next to Druella Rosier," I say to Ron.

"The Death Eater?" Ron asks me hesitatingly, but after a few seconds he writes the name next to the photograph of Druella Rosier and under the name of Evan Rosier the initials of D.E. with a question mark. "I think this is going to get interesting."

"Narcissa Malfoy has a family with a background, you know that?" I tell Ron, as I look at all the Black family folders I could find yesterday after meeting with Robards, one of the first things I did was take a walk through the archives of the wizarding world. "Bellatrix Lestrange," I say to Ron, as he writes the name of the woman who entered Hogwarts, in our sixth year, with the help of Gregory Goyle.

"Another Death Eater," Ron tells me with a sigh.

I watch Ron stare at the ceiling and immediately I feel the uncertainty escalate within me. This cannot be normal. I mean, there are things no one knows about Draco or Narcissa Black. Because Narcissa Black got pregnant without being married, it must have been one of the worst things that should have happened to her. However, with the names on the board right now...

Narcissa Black weren't supported by her family at that moment. Not if she was to be a single mother in a purist-perfect world.

"Bellatrix Lestrange has a husband," I say to Ron, as I glance at the file I was able to gather from Bellatrix Lestrange. "She is married to Rodolphus Lestrange," I press my lips. "Another Death Eater." I sigh heavily, because I really don't think we can find a single person in this whole disaster other than a Death Eater.

"Okay," I hear Ron mutter, as he writes the name on the board. "Next."

"Sirius Black," I say to Ron, as I look at the manila folder with my godfather's name.

Ron looks at me and immediately writes the name next to that of Bellatrix Lestrange and under the name of Sirius the words "Guilty For Treason". I force myself to bite my tongue and not make a mess out of this, although my chest hurts a little because, despite the years, I still have not been able to clear Sirius' name. But, I feel glad for he must be at the moment in one of the Order's houses, somewhere in the world, magical or non-magical. He's still alive and I feel grateful for it.

Ron takes a seat in a chair, right next to me and looks at the board, his head in his hands and I hear him sigh deeply.

"I don't blame her for running as far as she could with a newborn baby," Ron tells me, his eyes still on the blackboard. "I would have done the same if I had a kid and was concious that all the people in my family are Death Eaters or have been accused of treason, especially if she did not want to be part of Voldemort's terrorist group during the first magical war or ..." Ron says looking at all that.

"If my son had a magical ability superior to the common ones," I whisper, feeling like a nail of bitterness digs into me, because even though Bellatrix had murdered Dunbledore a couple of years ago, that doesn't mean I'm not a hundred percent certain that Dumbledore manipulated me for most of my childhood, leaving me at the mercy of the Dursleys only for me to gain maturity enough to defeat Voldemort someday. "I would also take him as far away as I could..." My mouth fell silent and I immediately moved uncomfortably. "The fact that Draco Black exists in the archives of Saint Mungo's means that he can also exist in the archives of any other magical hospital, anywhere in the world."

"Or in a muggle hospital, because Narcissa ran away, but we are not sure where she ran to. It could be muggle France," Ron mumbles.

I stand up and walk to the world map in the office, the Muggle parts are marked in red and the magic parts are marked in green.

"Ron, do you remember anything in particular when Ginny was born?" I ask Ron, as I flip the map.

"I only know that all children have a magic tracker and it tells the ministry where an event has been held that includes accidental magic outside of Hogwarts." He pauses and I look directly at the name of Bellatrix Lestrange. "The only place in the whole of the UK where minors can do magic is Hogwarts," Ron tells me and his eyes shines with understanding. "I'm going to the International Magical Cooperation Department." Ron tells me, as he puts on his Auror's robe and adjusts his wand in his forearm.

I nod as I start to put on the auror uniform.

"I will ask for an order for Saint Mungo's," I say in a serious tone, as I hurry to Robbards' office.

"When we find Draco Black, I'm sure hell will break loose," Ron mutters and his face turns serious. "The Order wnats him and so do Voldemort."

This is not Ron, my best friend. No, this is Auror Weasley, a lethal person on the battlefield with the ability to create plans out of thin air, and kill without even blinking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I am late guys, but exams are up at college and professors don't have mercy. I did two exams yesterday, one of them was up for 3 hours, but I get a 100/100 so I am so happy. 
> 
> Stay safe at home, drinking hot chocolate and eating lots of cookies.

OCTOBER 14th, 2002

HARRY

The first thing that occurs to me when I walk into the little muggle coffee shop is that the blonde that is always in my thoughts doesn't look good today. His eyes are dim, when they always seem to shine even for the smallest thing.

"Hey Henry," the barista tell me, giving me a smile.

"How come I get my coffee here almost every day, and you still don't know what I want to eat?" I ask, sticking out my tongue at one of the people I spent some of my school years with.

Hannah Abbot smiles at me as she hands me a hot paper cup.

"Who are you looking at?" Hannah asks me, as she leans against the bar to have a better view. I try to shake my head, but Hannah is not going to swallow that story today. Not when her eyes have already found the only other person inside the premises. "You like him?"

Her blue eyes rest on me again and I can't help the blush that peeks from my cheeks.

"He is special," I say, as I take out muggle money to pay.

"I know. I can feel the little spark of our blood inside him. However, I never saw him at Hogwarts," she says, still keeping her eyes on the beautiful blond. "I think he is a Squib."

I nod and look over my shoulder again. He really doesn't look good today and that breaks my soul.

"Do you know what his favorite dessert is?" I ask her. "I mean, what he usually have here." I ask Hannah, taking the first sip of my coffee.

Hot bitter liquid warming my insides, and yet, is not enough. I still feel cold.

She smiles at me mysteriously and then, she nods softly.

"I'll take it to him, and tell him that you send it to him," she says jovially, just like all the Puffs I remember from Hogwarts.

The doorbell rings and I shake my head.

"Once I'm gone, give him his favorite cake and a warm drink, the ones he likes the most," I say to Hannah, as I turn on my heel and start to leave the place.

I watch the blond boy shiver from the cold, although the place is warm enough. Without thinking, I cast a soft heating spell on him, as I watched him pull the sleeves of his jersey down. Immediately a smile grace his lips and I am proud to know that I put it there.

This is just how the blond should look every day. Smiling and happy, not sad and depressed.

I leave the store feeling lighter, while a smile falls on my lips.

\+ + + + + + + +

"This is the only file we have of Narcissa Black," one of the St. Mungo's nurses tells me. "It is a small file, because she was a pureblood, so there were very few occasions when she came to Mungo’s."

I look at the plump, blue-eyed, brown-haired woman and smile at her. This is the second time that I am in this hospital, specifically waiting for this person. The only one who can look me in the eye without making me feel like a Rock Star or something similar.  
  
"Harry," she says seriously. "Maybe you want to stop by the Magical Hospital in Warsaw," she says in a near whisper. "I'm sure they can give you more information about Narcissa Black," she tells me in an understandable tone. "They were in charge of preparing her body for the funeral."

I listen to it with special attention and I feel that something does not fit. There is something that has been bothering me since the day Ron and I started putting together the puzzle of Narcissa Black's life, in an effort to find what Voldemort is looking for or why did she ran away.

I nod warmly toward the healer who has been watching me since I left Hogwarts, and I feel like a little boy of eighteen, not like the man who is 22 years old, and two whole years of being Auror. I say goodbye to the nurse and make my way to the hospital exit and I meet Luna Lovegood in her baby blue robes, pointing out that she is a healer in training.

"Hello Luna," I say with a smile on my lips. It's always good to see Luna. "How have you been?"

Luna looks at me and a spark of recognition shines in her light blue eyes.

"Harry," I hear her say to me in the same dreamy tone she always has. "I didn't know you would be around here," and her eyes look me up. "Have you come to check why your heart beats so slowly?"

What?

Luna's question leaves me completely disoriented.

"Ummm," I try to think what that means, but nothing comes to mind. "No, I came to get information related to a case."

Luna nods and then her eyes fall on me.

"When you have time Harry, try to find out why your heart beats so slowly," and her hand rests on my shoulder. "Maybe Muggles have the answer."

And she walks past me and I know our conversation is over. I smile softly and continue on my way, trying to put everything I've just discovered in St. Mungo's in order. I think about my destiny and appear again in the atrium of the British Ministry of Magic, ready to open the folder that contains the information of Narcissa Black and everything related to her health.

"Harry," Ron's voice makes me stop before I reach the elevator in the ministry and I immediately turn to see my best friend. "How was it, mate?"

I look at Ron with tight lips and see how his eyes fill with understanding, as we both get on the elevator.

"Floor 3, Aurors," I say to the magical contraption.

And after a long three minutes, I can finally see the hallway that will lead me to my own office. Without any patience I open the door to our office and see Hermione sitting in the small armchair that has the room that Ron and I share in the ministry.

"Hi guys," Hermione tells us, as she stands up and kisses Ron on the lips and then turns to me to give me a brief hug. "How are you doing?"

I throw myself in the chair that I use every day, and that I brought from my own house. I turn on it and look at the board that is full of names everywhere.

"Wow," Hermione tells us. "I see you discovered the entire Narcissa Black family tree." she say mockingly

Ron nods.

"And what they all have in common?" Ron mutters, sitting down on the edge of his desk. "It's just that everyone in that family is involved with Voldemort in one way or another."

I sigh and the door opens and Blaise Zabini comes in with his unspeakable robes all over him and the most serious face I've ever seen in the whole world.

"Close the door, Ze," Hermione says to him, as she makes room in the small chair and watches the dark-skinned boy throw himself next to her. "This is what the Aurors have," Hermione murmurs.

Zabini is silent, while his eyes scan all the clues that Ron and I believe are of importance to get to Narcissa Black and be able to join her thoughts, to know what was the final destination of his son.

"It is pure blood," Blaise whispers. "And not from any family, but from one of Britain's oldest families," Zabini whispers. "However, I think you may want to put a name next to Evan Rosier's." Immediately my gaze falls on the unspeakables in the room. Blaise's eyes are cold. “Narcissa Black was a Rosier, on her mother's part and although perhaps the Blacks were not very fanatical about letting their children mix with other families that were not purebloods, the reality is that the Rosiers were purebloodd, but purebloods of the French kingdom.”

Hermione looks at him like she wants to be able to extract Zabini's brain and see what is inside it.

"Do you think Narcissa could have had contact with her family from her mother?" Hermione asks.

Zabini sighs and I see him look towards the door.

"It is not very common in magical British society for children to see their grandparents a lot, but on special dates the whole family gets together and people talk," Blaise murmurs, as he pulls out his wand and casts a silencing spell around us. “The lastname Rosier was born in France,like my family, they come from other countries where customs are different and the French. Just like the Italians, the Rosiers have the habit of making everyone in their family know each other. And not only that,” he sighs and feels like he's trying to figure out how to put into words everything his mind is thinking. “Evan Rosier had a very close friend, the heir to the Malfoy family, another very old French family, pure blood and with so much, much money and influences in every country in Mediterranean, Europe, Greece, Romania, Portugal, Spain and Italy. The next Malfoy family heir was promised to marry a daughter of the Blacks who was born the same year as Lucius, the Malfoys' only heir.”

My eyes immediately fly to the name of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You mean this heir was going to marry Bellatrix Lestrange?" I ask him in a low voice.

Blaise shakes his head.

"No," he says and walks to the blackboard, from which he takes a light blue chalk and writes one more name. "Andromeda Black was the middle child of Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black, she was the one who was born the same year as Lucius Malfoy and was promised to him in marriage."

I sigh, as I feel like a new headache is about to start.

"I'm not really sure what happened between them, but when I was a child my mother talked a lot about how that black-and-white-haired girl had saved the entire heart of her childhood best friend." Zabini stares at the board and I know there is something else.

"You mean Lucius Malfoy," Hermione whispers.

Blaise nods.

"That girl was Narcissa Black," says Blaise in such a low voice. "I saw him. I saw Lucious Malfoy a few times when I was a boy. His hair was as white as the snow and his eyes as gray as the sky on a stormy day. I rememred him because he looks odd, like some kind of fairy."

A fairy?

"There is one more place we have to go," I say to everyone in the room.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" ´Mione says to me, while taking her eyes off Ron.

"Do you know anything about a magical hospital in Warsaw?" I ask aloud to everyone.

And immediately Hermione nods.

"St. Hellene Hospital," her voice filled the room with a little more hope. "The only hospital in the wizarding world that has the name of a woman."

"The healer in charge of Narcissa Black during the time she was here, said that maybe we wanted to go for a walk there." I say and sigh heavily. "It was the hospital in charge of preparing her body for her funeral."

Ron looks at me and I immediately know he has something to say.

"To bury a pureblood, there is always someone who has to remove the body, otherwise the body moves to other place, where it decomposes on its own in a matter of years, not days." Ron says.

"A magical pit," whispers Hermione.

“But, there is a grave with the name of Narcissa Black, here in England. That means someone took her from Warsaw,” I say, as I look at the name written in light blue on the board. "We have to go there, to Warsaw. Whoever took the body of Narcissa Black, also took Draco."

I look at the list of names we have on a blackboard and again my eyes fall on one name: Bellatrix Lestrange.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione discovered something new about Draco Black's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday I took two exams of 3 hours each and today the results are out... 100/100 in both exams. 
> 
> I am posting this chapter as a celebration. 
> 
> Enjoy with sandwiches and soda.

OCTOBER 15th, 2002

HERMIONE

“Are we all sure of what we have to do?" I ask to each of those present, especially because Harry and Ron are capable to go do this task without knowing what they really need to do.

I sigh and look at all of them.

"'Mione," I hear Harry speak to me. Immediately my eyes leave the blackboard where the names of all the relatives of Narcissa Black, and some other people who I have no idea who they are, are written in. "Who are we really going to investigate?" Harry asks me, while he looks at the bag in my hand. “We have clues on all of them.”

"There are only five papers in this bag," I reply, as I shake the aforementioned item. "This will be like a sort lottery." I tell them with a tight smile. "A very gore lottery."

Those were the words Neekeal whispered to me. I really don't know the names that are written here or who the head of aurors supect of. However, Robards and Neekeal assured me that there, in the pouch, were all the people who had contact with Narcissa Black before Draco Black was born. That information was provided by Robards and Neekeal, even if Harry and Ron weren't able to find everything, they found a few pieces. Neekeal and Robards tore that clues apart, trying to find some kind of path.

Until, they didn't.

They tored apart every single bit of information St. Mungo's was able to offer regarding Narcissa Black and a few of her family members. Not enough, never enough when it is related to that woman. Never enough to find her kid, never enough to see clearly which way we should walk.

"That means one of us will have to make a double trip," Ron whispers, and I see him wince.

If we have it though, then Voldemort too.

"To a not-so-pretty place, perhaps," Blaise murmurs.

I look at Harry and see him reach his hand towards the bag. I slap him fondly in the hand, as smoothly as possible, a bare touch.

"Not yet, Harry," I say in the most cordial tone I can find. "I will go first."

And just as the words come out of my mouth, I put my hand in the cloth sack Neekeal gave me this morning. I feel a paper stick to my hand and I immediately take it out, a small paper flower is in the palm of my hand and it opens, revealing a name written in black ink.

“Bellatrix Lestrange," I whispered, remembering the person who almost killed Sirius Black.

I open the bag once more and Ron reaches into it with his hand. Once he takes it out, there is a flower in his hand, which opens without hesitation and I see how his eyes move over the letters that are written on the paper.

"St. Hellen Hospital for Wizards and Magical Creatures," Ron whispers, nodding with conviction. "How hard can it be?"

And immediately I know that today we will have problems.

Harry reaches into the bag and when his hand comes out, there is a flower on it.

"Andromeda Tonks?" I hear him ask, like he wants to make sure it's the correct name.

I nod and immediately feel the information running through my brain. Information that I can only process when I speak it.

"Narcissa Black had two sisters," I reply to Harry. "Narcissa Black's older sister was Bellatrix Lestrange, but her middle sister was Adromeda Tonks," I say as if it were public knowledge. "Any family member of Narcissa Black is, automatically, a suspect in this investigation."

"Tonks?" Ron asks, as if he knows something is wrong with that name. "That is not a pureblood surname."

Blaise nods.

"It is because she did not marry a pureblood," I tell them in exasperation. "Ted Tonks is a Muggle. Her family casted her out just for that crime she commited."

Immediately the three men in the room turn their faces towards me and I feel my cheeks burn.

"That's stalkers knowledge, 'Mione," Ron tells me, while laughing at me.

"You should know that better than anyone, Harry," I say accusingly, watching him laughs with Ron. "Adromeda Tonks is the mother of Tonks, the wife of Professor Lupin, and the grandmother of Teddy Lupin," I say seriously and watch his cheeks flush violently.

"Sorry, 'Mione," Harry whispers with a bit of embarrassment. "I just know her as Grand, Mom and Meda. She never talks about her old family. I didn't even know she have sisters..."

I nod and Blaise reaches in.

"Rosse Cottage," Blaise whispers and I see him turn pale. "Why would Neekeal send us to that place?"

Ron swallows and, right away, I know something is wrong. It was them who gave Neekeal and Robards this information. Everything they could find was in that file. I never stopped to believe maybe they were putting themselves in real danger.

"Have Harry go St. Helen and then to Andromeda's. I'll go with Blaise to Rosse Cottage," says Ron, as he passes his piece of paper to Harry.

"What is wrong with that place?" Harry asks with curiosity.

Blaise sighs and turns serious as he sits at the desk in meeting room four.

"Rosse Cottage is a well-known place because wizards who are no longer human lives in there," Blaise replies in a serious tone. "They are dangerous magicians, and although the address says Rosse Cottage, it is not a small house ..." And I see him look ahead.

“What do you mean?" I ask Blaise.

"There is not human left in that place, Hermione. They are all something more, something else," Blaise rubs his cheeks with both hands. "If you think Dumbledore has power, it's because you've never been to a place like Rosse Cottage. Not humans, but neither common wizards. Not humans but neither common witches. If you have a werewolf kid you might want to send him there first, so The Ancients can teach him how to control his power. If you want to disappear to the ministry, you go to Rosse Cottage. They can make you invisible to any kind of magic the Ministry has applied on you."

“In there, magicians can seal the power of another magician,” Ron mutters. "If Narcissa Black was there, she didn't leave because her family didn't support her," Ron says seriously. "If Narcissa Black was in that place, it's most likely she was trying to hid from someone."

"Someone like Fudge?" Harry asks.

I swallow audibly and turn to Blaise. Ron and Harry never were there, but Neekeal somehow was able to grab this information. I put my hand in the bag and a new flower opens

"Or trying to hid her kid from someone like Albus Dumbledore," I whisper, looking at everyone in the room.

"His name is the last." I swallow. "What does Dumbledore have to do with all this?" I ask out loud.

"That's what we're going to find out, ‘Mione," Harry mutters and his eyes sparkle with joy.

Ron and Blaise are the first to leave the conference room and when Harry begins to move to start on his duties, I grab his arm and he immediately turns to face me.

"Are you okay Harry?" I ask him, trying to see if something is wrong or if Voldemort has terrorized Harry again in his dreams.

He nods softly and a sincere smile lands on his lips.

"I'm fine, 'Mione," he assures me in a soft tone. Harry doesn’t seems tired, so maybe he took dreamless sleep, and if so, I have to know.

"What did you dream last night?" I ask him directly.

"I dreamed with eyes as gray as the winter sky," he tells me thoughtfully. “Whoever it is, or whatever happened in the dream, I only remember his eyes. At first, I knew it was Voldemort's eyes, trying to reach me, but then it was as if he had blinked, and there they were. Gray eyes, warm and full of joy.” I see him bite his lower lip. "I want to dream tonight again."

"How do you know it was a Him?" I ask him with concern.

"I just know," and he beams at me.

I let Harry go and feel something inside me lighten up. Harry wants to dream, and that's a step forward. After seven years, Harry is losing his fear of Voldemort's machinations and that is a good thing. Something that fills me with relief.

I practically run after my best friend and once I fall in step with him, I plant a kiss on his cheek and see him smile.

"So, are you happy that you no longer have nightmares?" I ask him and watch him blush.

That is kind of weird.

"It's not just that, 'Mione," he tells me almost in a whisper. “It is what I feel when Voldemort's eyes become the ones of that person. It feels like he's taking care of me in some way, preventing Voldemort from seeing inside my head. It is as if he's preventing Voldemort from seeing within my own soul.”

\+ + + + + + + + + + +

I walk from outside Hogsmeade to the castle where I spent most of my adolescence, rejoicing in knowledge and sharing with my two best friends. If it hadn't been for this place, I would never have met Harry or Ronald. Although, even if the world may not believe it, they are the two most important people to me, apart from my parents.

My feet lead me straight to the gates of the magical castle, and I mumble an enchantment known only to Unspeakables, and the iron gates open with a faint creak. Right away, I start to walk to where I know I can find the Headmaster of this school, Albus Dumbledore would never disappoint me. I'm sure he's already waiting for me, so I'm not surprised when I find him waiting for me at the foot of the gargoyle staircase.

His eyes sparkling with knowledge, and I feel a blush start to stain my cheeks.

"Miss Granger," says the director, nodding softly. "It is always a pleasure to you again."

"Headmaster," I say, as I nod. His gaze making cheeks burn with sheer willpower. "If I may take a moment of your time, I would like to talk to you about a person you may know," I say softly, trying not to have any of the students in the hall listen to me.

Dumbledore smiles at me and in a firm voice says: "Pineapple Pie," and the door opens. "If you will accompany me, Miss Granger, it will be a great honor for me." And his eyes sparkle as I stand beside him on the moving staircase.

Once we reach the main office, I look at everything around me.

"Chocolate frog?" he tells me, as he lifts the package in the air. I shake my head gently. "Tell me, Miss Granger, what is the subject you wish to discuss?"

I watch him stuff the chocolate frog into his mouth and chew, as he gently nods.

"I would like to talk to you about Narcissa Black," I say directly.

Dumbledore nods and I see how the brightness is gone from his eyes.

"She was an excellent witch, very good at Defense Against the Dark Arts," he tells me, as his eyes move to a small portrait and I walk over to the cabinet and I can immediately see a girl in the Hogwarts uniform. Inscribed in the painting are small golden letters that read: "First Place: Defense Against the Dark Arts Club, Narcissa Black."

"Was she a duellist?" I ask and approach the image. Beside her is someone else. "Who are the people next to her in the photograph?"

Albus lets the air out.

"Severus Snape, who was a year older than Narcissa, is the person to her right and to her left is her sister, Andromeda Tonks neé Black," the Headmaster replies. "She was really fond of Hogwarts."

"You were one of the last people Narcissa Black visited before leaving the country," I say seriously. “Can you tell me something about that? Was someone chasing her? Was she pregnant at the time or maybe with a newborn baby?”

Dumbledore's eyes fill with sadness.

"They weren't chasing her, Miss Granger," he says sadly. His hand moves and a small magical image appears in front of me. "They were behind the boy in the photograph." And in a few seconds, the image disappears out of my sight. “A boy with unrivaled powers and the Dark Lord discovered him. Invincible, was called the baby in a prophecy,” Dumbledore tells me. "Conqueror, the centaurs called him."

I am left cold.

"Is he ..." and I swallow deeply. I can't even dare to think about what it is. "Where is now?"

"Unfortunately, that's not something I can answer, Miss Granger," he says seriously. "Where pain becomes joy and death becomes life. Where snow is not snow, but sun. Green, red and blue. Where the queen put her crown." Dumbledore looks at me. "Oh, look at the time, it's time for lunch," his eyes pierce me. "Would you like to stay for lunch, Miss Granger?"

I deny gently.

"Thank you, Headmaster, but I'm fine," I nod and gave him a slight smile. "Have a good day."

I start walking towards the exit of the castle thinking about what he said to me: Where death becomes life.

Is Draco Black a Necromancer?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry talks with Dray for first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been really busy this past days, but here is another chapter. Enjoy it with cookies and hot chocolate. 
> 
> Please, let me know what you think about this story so far. I am a bit excited about this chapter, even if it have been a real crazy week. My cello is arriving from the States in a few days, and I am so happy for it. 
> 
> Left comments and kuddos, if you like this so far. And if you don't or have a question... Left me a comment too. 
> 
> Now, bye bye. Lot of love. And stay safe at home.

OCTOBER 18th, 2002

HARRY

I stop at the same park as always, and the sound reaches my ears, making a smile settle on my lips. At this hour, there are almost no children in the park, I watch him pack his huge instrument in a black cloth bag with a shape similar to a long neck guitar.

A giant guitar.

A cello, Harry. 'Mione's voice echoes in my head and I smile as I walk over to the young man all the kids call Drake. I feel the nerves take over me and I try to breathe more calmly.

"Hello," I say, once I am a couple of steps away. He raise his face so fast that I'm afraid his neck will hurt badly just for that one movement.

His eyes are as gray as the sky during a stormy afternoon and his lips are as pink as the petals of a flower. His skin is pale and to the naked eye it looks so smooth.

"Hi," he says, a slight blush covering his cheeks. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asks me, as he stands up, practically hugging his instrument.

My eyes immediately settle on the tender smile that plays on his lips and somehow the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach turn into a hippogriff stampede.

"I..." I start to say and his eyes sparkle with intense curiosity. "You…"

I hear him laugh and it's the most wonderful sound I've ever heard. He extends his bare hand to me and I immediately take it in mine and let out a whisper full of horror.

Why is he not wearing any gloves in this harsh weather?

Unintentionally, or rather wishing for some time, my other hand wraps around his and the blush on his cheeks grows stronger.

"Can I invite you to have a coffee with me?" I ask softly, trying to control my voice and the excitement. "Please."

A smile appears on his face and his eyes shine like two jewels. I feel his hand move away from mine and I immediately try to cover the disappointment I feel with a little smile.

"My name is Dray," he tells me, as he puts the huge instrument on his back, then adjusts the case's straps on his shoulders. "What is your name?" he asks me in a soft voice.

I feel again the dull pain that is caused by feeling my hands empty, immediately my eyes fly towards his hands and I take off my gloves to give them to him.

"Uh..." I stutter. "Here, they are gloves," I scratch my neck nervously. "They are for the cold. Winter. Autum."

I feel my cheeks turning warm and maybe red. But, Dray takes the gloves from me with an even bigger smile than the previous one. He takes only one of the two gloves.

"My name is Harry," I reply, now feeling more in control of the hippogriffs that threaten to destroy my stomach.

I watch him pulling something out of the pocket of his jeans and then pass me a light blue glove. I take it carefully and look again at the boy who usually plays every Friday in this same park.

"Harry," he tells me, as he leads me somewhere, his elegant long finger curling around the straps of his case. He looks at me again and he is practically glowing. I can feel the spark of magic inside him growing, calling. "I know you, Harry." He says to me practically in a whisper, as he stops in front of a small cafeteria.

We are not so far from his favorite spot at the park. I feel like a stalker.

Immediately I feel the color fade from my face as I stand in front of the door. Dray takes my hand and pulls me into the store. Immediately the warmth of the place hits me squarely in the chest and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

The light in this palce makes me nervous. This is the kind of places Dudley used to talk about when we were kids. The same places aunt Petunia wouldn't let me accompanied them because I am a freak.

Was, Harry. You are as normal as any wizard. But, even if Dray have the spark inside him, he is just a muggle. Anxiety inmediately make a spot for itself in my chest.

If Dray ever know who I am, then maybe he won't want anything with me, because who would want something with a person who is always chased by some crazy person or who has so much darkness inside him? Someone like me, some who has killed people.

"Hello Vanya," I see him practically lying on the counter. A plump gray-haired woman appears behind the counter, her chocolate eyes gleaming in the golden lights.

I see everything around me and realize that this place must be expensive. I approach Dray and settle next to him, my eyes resting on Dray's slender figure and the huge instrument on his back. His hands on the counter and the soft smile playing on his rose lips.

"Oh, Dray," she says knowingly. "I assume today it will be two hot chocolates instead of one." And the woman's eyes sparkle.

The blond's cheeks are tinged with a soft pink color.

"He's Harry, Vanya," but, he doesn't specify anything else. "Hot chocolate for me and a Happy Day of your Death, for Harry," he says to the woman with his eyes shining with... wickedness?

"Uh," I look at Dray with wide eyes. "A what?" I ask him, not believing what my ears have just heard.

Dray turns to me and he smile at him softly. I wonder vaguely if it won't hurt his face to smile so much. However, I set the question aside and focus on the place, instead.

"Don't worry, Harry," the gray-haired woman tells me, as she puts two huge cups on the counter. "You will love to die."

A cold sweat runs down my body when I see the huge black cup that has a red star outside. I conjure a smile, trying to make all the panic go away.

What if Dray is a wizard too? What if he's a pureblood and a follower of Voldemort?

"Come on," he says, taking the light blue mug that the woman placed next to the black one. "You will love it," and then she blushes. "The drink, I mean. You will love to die.”

I shuddered. Last night something extrange happened and Voldemort was able to enter my mind. And I poked into his. His cold, hard and cruel mind.

"Remember to take a corner, Dray," the woman says in a semi-scream. "I do not want…"

"Anyone dying in this place because of my shell." Dray finishes the sentence, while he takes my hand again and leads me to a corner.

A white large, then average, sofa is along the place and small square tables next to each other, while outside there are chairs that look as stiff as 'Mione's back whenever Neekeal asked them to do something... Unspeakable.

I see him put the cup on the table, when we reach a corner and then take off the huge instrument gracefully. Without knocking down anything, without hurting himself and best of all, without hurting his instrument or making the smallest noise when putting it on the floor.

"I ask for the outside chair, I can't stand a sofa that soft and fluffy right now," he says, as he turns his neck and a couple of vertebrae pops.

I laugh softly, as I sit on the couch, although it could very well be a cloud, with how soft it is. I take a sip of my drink and immediately all my taste buds come back to life. It is sweet, but at the same time it has a bitter touch that makes it taste like a piece of heaven.

"What exactly does this have?" I ask, eyeing the glass.

I am sure it is not poison. Poison are not meaning to taste this good and as Snape made me drink a few of my own potions, I really know how semi-poison taste likes. My potions were meant to make people ill at best, kill them when I was really out of it.

"Well, it's hot chocolate with a little bourbon, whiskey, hershey’s, nutella, whipped cream and marshmallows in the shape of stars," he says, looking into the black cup. “When I saw you today, you didn't seem quite happy. It is called Happy Day of your Death, because it is supposed to kill your sorrows, but without getting drunk and having the after effect alcohol tends to live behind.”

I smile at the boy in front of me.

"So you know me, Dray?" I ask him, fixing my eyes on his and I see him blush deeply. "Do you know me from the park?"

However, when he denies his hair moves at the same time as his head, disturbing the golden halo that surrounds him.

"No Harry," he says to me, his eyes on mine.

His eyes are locked on mine and for a brief moment I can see his memories and I see myself in front of Voldemort and then, a desperate Dray that stands between me and Voldemort.

"I know you because I have seen you in my dreams." he whispers softly, his eyes clears as a winter day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is a bad ass. Draco loves sharing good food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys and girls. I have been busy a lot this week, but here this is again. I will try to update every Friday because I have half day free and I just wanna make this constantly, being discipline with this story as I am with every concert I prepare. 
> 
> So, I hope you are all safe and sound at home, because I am. I went to the shop yesterday and I was happy about that. If your are feeling bad or sad or claustrophobic talk with someone. 
> 
> I talk with this beautiful friend of mine and she is always helping me to get through the bad days. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter with burgers and a chocolate shake ... whichever is your favorite!

OCTOBER 19th, 2002

HARRY

I watch Dray come out of a huge building with white walls and chocolate bricks. His hair frames his pointy, smooth face as he walks steadily toward me. My eyes drop to where his hands are and...

Why on earth is Dray holding a girl's hand?

I watch him throw his head back as he laughs at something she tells him and my blood freezes in my veins. Dray says something to her and she quickly shakes her head, shiny black hair moving with that simple movement.

"Harry!" he yells at me from the bottom of the stairs, finally releasing the girl's hand. "Bye, Pansy," I heard him say over his shoulder.

"Hello, Dray," I say, feeling a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. "Good day?"

Dray laughs and my body feels, sudedenly, hot.

"It could have been worse," he replies, showing me teeth as white as pearls. "How about yours?" his question takes me by surprise.

I shake my head gently as I follow his steps.

"I don't do anything on Saturdays," I tell him softly. "I don't have to work, so it's the most boring day of the week."

Not bad guys to chase on Saturday, I tell myself. Or Sunday.

I smile at nothing, as I watch the boy's blond hair dance with the wind that blows in the city. Dray looks over his shoulder at me and his eyes shine with such joy that my heart hurts. This is why I must defeat Voldemort, this is why I have discover what power I possess that he does not.

"Harry," he says, taking my hand and heading somewhere. My heart flutters inside my chest at his touch. "Have you ever tried the best burgers in the world?" Dray asks me, joy dripping from his voice.

House elves don't know how to make hamburgers. A smile escapes my lip. Dudley was always able to eat hamburgers, I only saw the empty wrappers on the floor, sometimes the odd pickle with stay behind.

"No," I say, unable to help but feel completely at ease. "I am a man of veggies and fruits."

Dray looks at me with a surprised grin that then transforms into a strange smile, but one that makes him look extremely sweet.

"Well," he says raising his hand, dragging me somewhere. "Today is the day where you will give up your healthy habits and enter the best hamburger place in the world, with me." I see him hesitate for a moment and his gray eyes fix on me. "You eat meat, right?" he asks me, as if he wanted to make sure. I saw him with an amused smile playing in my lips. "If you don't eat meat, that's fine, we can go somewhere else where they make lentil burgers." His eyes sparkle and butterflies starts a strange dance in my stomach.

"Don't worry, Dray," I say, lowering my head a little to connect with his eyes. "Of course I eat meat," I say and give him a smile.

"Excellent," his eyes are sparkling in this mad way that reminds me of McGonagall whenever she is bending the rules. Dray begins to drag me into the parking lot. "I hope it doesn't bother you waiting too long." He mutters, pressing a small control with his hand. "Come on, we're going to Battersea." A car makes a sound.

"To Battersea?" I ask, as I run after Dray. "Battersea is about five miles away," I add softly.

Dray gives me a smile, his slander, elegant hands on the car trunk.

"It's actually six miles, but on a day like today, at this time, almost nobody is in the street." He removes the instrument from his back and carefully deposits it in the trunk of the car. "It will only be half an hour. If you are hungry now, I can take you to a place where you can buy something extremely fast and then…” His eyes are fixed on the sky and his face looks like porcelain when the light caresses it. "We can enjoy the best hamburger in the whole world." I laugh at his tirade. "It's open, Harry. Are you going to accompany me to eat the best hamburger in the world or not?”

So, Dray can give me attitude.

I nod lovingly as I open the car door. "I will accompany you wherever you want, Dray Black."

†††

"And here it is," he tells me in a serious tone, as he stops in front of an old-looking establishment.

"The Old Queen’s Head?" I ask, trying to contain my laughter. Suddenly I imagine the Queen of England in a sarcophagus and a bunch of little spiders walking around.

"You'll love it," he with seriously softness. "Maybe not so much the painting or the chairs," he smiles at me and I smile back. "But you're definitely going to like the food."

I open the door, since Dray doesn't seem to want to or can't open it, whatever it is, it doesn't matter. I open the door and watch him go under my arm. However, what I see reminds me of the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade and I immediately feel at home.

"So this is where they make the best burgers in the world?" I ask him, while I see some tables full, almost everyone is eating hamburgers.

Weird, odd looking burgers I've never seen in my life.

Dray takes my hand and pulls me toward a table in one of the corners. The solid, old wood gleaming under the golden lights of the place.

"Which one would you recommend?" I ask him, once we are sited and start reading the menu.

His eyes are sparkling mischievously.

"All of them," he tells me in a happy tone.

A plump woman appears and a smile is painted on her face when she sees Draco.

"As usual?" she asks and the blonde just nods. "And what can I bring you, handsome?" she asks me, winking at me.

That thrown me off.

"Uh ..." I look around, but everyone seems to be eating something different. "What do you recommend?" I ask her and her blue eyes shine wickedly.

"The house special," she tells me, as she begins to write something on her pad. "Is that all, handsome?" I nod and Dray copies me. "Chocolate milk for you, Dray or do you want to risk yourself with a soda?" the woman's eyebrows move suggestively, like she is talking about bondage sex instead of a drink.

"Never, never in life!" declares the blonde, as the woman begins to walk away from us with a malicious laugh on her lips. "You like it in here, Harry?" he asks me in whisper.

I nod calmly. A smile returning to my lips.

"Sure, it's nice," I tell him. Just like you, and that's what I don't dare say. "What's the deal with the soda thing?"

Dray open his mouth, a sexy gesture I think. My magic is humming happily inside me.

"I had a coach. I did Traditional Jiujitsu when I was a kid and the couch was always saying: Coke is a drink from hell. Satan drinks it in his churning throne," Dray tells me with a smile gracing his plump lips. "And so, we stay away from Coke and Pepsi," he giggles.

"So, you are a fighter," I state.

Dray shakes his blond head.

"Not really. It's not about how you plan an attack, is about how you keep your cool while someone else is attacking you. How you can plan the counter attack while defending yourself," his fingers plays with mine and I feel happy.

"And where's your coach now?" I ask him.

"Still teaching to little brats like me in his academy," Dray says, while a smile blush take over his cheeks.

"A brat? You?" it's hard to picture him as everything, but not a brat.

"Yeah. Usually, kids with issues are the only ones who has to seek out some kind of outlet. My dad thought it was good for me to go somewhere. I was always picking fights in school and I was a four years old with a lot of attitude. Got expelled from my kinder garden, twice," I listen to him with rapt attention. "Until dad hauled me into his car one Sunday and dropped me at the Academy. I had a lot of time to think that day. I thought dad didn't love me anymore because I got myself expelled from another toddler school."

"That's an stupid idea," I tell him, trying to hide a laugh.

"Tell something like that to a kid that was always bullied because he didn't have a mom," Dray says and that break my heart. because I know it's true.

Kids are like that.

"So, it helped you at the end?" I ask him.

He laughs so loud. His head tilted to one side.

"Of course not at the beginning," he told me honestly. "But, I learned which fights are worth the effort and which ones were not. I still think that way. Some battles are meant to be and others are just... unworthy your time and your energy," his eyes looks older and wise. "Most of them aren't worth the fight, But, there are others..." he smile is back full force. "Others are meant to be fight for until you win them."

My hands are itching to touch him. I look into his eyes and I can feel his pinky finger interlocking with mine.

"Boys," the lady that took our orders is here with a tray with two burgers. The first completely different from the next.

"Well, time to educate your palate," he tells me a few seconds later when my eyes fall on the monstrosity that the waitress left over the table.

A humongous hamburger is looking at me and next to it, a two story one, that look completely normal with a lot of bacon.

"Which one is mine?" I ask him.

His eyes are shinning wickedly.

"Oh, the enormous one," he answers me taking the little hamburger between his long fingers. "And the soda is yours, too."

I look at the seven story hamburger that can stand only and only because a wooden stick is keeping it together.

"Cheers," I tell Dray, while trying to figure out how to eat this monstrosity without embarrassing myself in front of this gorgeous blond angel.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is dinning with his surrogate family, the Weasleys. Ron can tell something is off with his non-blood brother.

OCTOBER 20th, 2002

RON

I exchange a look with Hermione and then look back to where Harry is sitting across the table. His hair is tousled as always, his green eyes shine as is normal for powerful magicians, however...

"I swear it, Ron, Harry has never dressed like this," Hermione murmurs into my ear as her eyes fall on Harry, or it could be Charlie. "I've never seen Harry dress like this before."

I look again at what Harry is wearing today. A sweater that I had never seen before, but that does not fit two sizes bigger than him, pants that are not so tight, but are not torn or holed anywhere and...

"These are Converse," I hear Harry say to Charlie with a smile on his lips.

I look Mione in the eye and see them shine with fun.

"What's wearing Harry on his feet, Mione?" I ask her again without taking my eyes off her.

Today she looks completely pretty, with brown hair tied up in a strange bun, her bangs gently falling onto her forehead, leaving her face practically free to admire.

"Converse are soft shoes, Ronald," he tells me, turning his eyes back to where Harry and Charlie are. "Harry," Mione calls him, as I watch dishes dance from one place to another and most of my brothers and their respective partners sit at the table. "Where did you disappear yesterday? You said you would come back and then, only your Patronus appeared outside the bar. ”

Harry blushes violently and I try to hide a small laugh that tries to escape my lips.

No one can say that I am a bad friend.

"I ... Uh," I see him look at Mione and then Charlie. "Uh, I decided not to go drinking lastnight. I needed to think."

"Did something bad happen at work, Harry?" my dad asks, as he lowers his latest muggle acquisition to look at my best friend.

"Ah ..." and look down. Harry still doesn't know how to lie. "I just needed to think." His blush could light up half Devon and my father smiled at Harry.

"Don't lie, mate," I say seriously. "You know I'm always going to support you, right?" Next to me, Mione nods seriously.

"Oh! Harry," my mother calls out to him, as she sits down next to my father and starts tearing the turkey. "Mrs. Montgomery told me that one of her nieces would like to meet you," my mother tells him, setting the knife aside and looking over the heads of Charlie and Andrei, Charlie's boyfriend. "She admires you a lot, I told her that I would ask you if you were interested in dating and then I would give her an answer. It's been a long time since your last relationship. It's been over a year now, right? ”

Harry nods and a smile falls on his lips.

"I appreciate it, Molly, but I'm already seeing someone, thanks though," and he smiles at my mother. "It's still recent we've only been out once," but even so, his eyes are shining.

"Oh, in that case, I hope you bring her back soon to meet her," my mother tells her happily.

"Oh, I'm not seeing a girl," he says to my mother, and yet that doesn't lessen the happiness my mother feels knowing that Harry is seeing someone. "He is a boy."

"It doesn't matter," my mother tells heim, as she hands Fleur a small plate to feed Victoire. “When you feel like it's time, you can bring him in, Harry. You are also my son, and I want to see you at this table sitting with the person you love.”

Most likely, she has to make sure if this person is good for Harry.

Harry looks at her, his green eyes spin with something I wouldn't know what to call, but the other emotion... I'm sure it's happiness. I am happy that my best friend has something similar to a family, even if I know that, despite the years, Harry is still not used to having one. He still believes that we are a loan, a family that he will have to give back someday and I am so proud that my mother put him in his place, that she reminds him that he is also part of this family, even if he is no longer in a relationship with Ginny.

"And what is he like, Harry?" Ginny asks from the other end of the table, practically screaming over the noise that Fred and George have made.

Harry's face lights up and I know this is not a passing thing.

"He is amazing, he has blonde hair, almost as blonde as Luna's, his eyes are gray and he is really sweet," Harry finishes saying with such a big smile that I think his face will split in half.

I see him reach out and grab a piece of treacle tart and right after chewing on it his head turns into the head of a cockatoo, as he looks at the person next to him and his mouth opens, letting out a strange sound.

"Fred," I heard my mom scream and the whole room goes silent. "George Weasley," and my two twin brothers look at her with a smile on their faces.

"We are sorry we intoxicated the food ..." says one of them.

"But, we don't regret Harry's current face," the other follows.

And I know it's the twins' way of telling Harry that they're happy for him, too. Ginny reaches out for a piece of apple pie and her face is the next to change. Now she is an elephant, a very red, hairy one.

"Fred, George!" my mother yells again. "Stop poisoning my food. The table is for humans, not for animals. ”

Fred and George look at each other.

"But, they are not animals, mom," one of them replies.

"They only look like one," and the two give my mother a little angel smile.

Harry's face returns to normal, as I watch my mom scold them with her eyes. A few chairs further on, Victoire laughs and Harry takes another bite of his treacle tart, his face changes to that of a cockatoo and looks directly at Victoire, while the little blonde laughs out loud and claps her hands vigorously.

I smile knowing that I have the best family in the world, including those with animal faces and the two geniuses who made it possible to have animal faces in the first place.

"And what is this young man's name, Harry?" my dad asks, taking his gaze off her muggle artifact. A Nook-Ia phoner or something. "Is he a magician?"

Harry shakes his head. "He is not a magician, he is a Muggle. His name is Dray. ”

I pause for a moment, the name makes something inside me feel cold. As if there was… a spell on the name. The very name makes me shiver. This is different, it feels different than the feeling of saying the name of the One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This name is not filled with hatred or wishes to kill someone, but with a potential tread, like the name have been under a ritual to make it, something like Voldemort's but less... I don´t know.

I need to know who this Dray is and why his name feels so… Evil.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ron are working hard, but at the end of a hard day, Harry just wanna go back to his beloved. Harry is a badass, Draco just wants kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy with cookies and hot chocolate.
> 
> Yesterday was my first cello concert of the season :) and I am so happy about it. I opened it and I was a bit nervous, but everythig were smooth and good. I played Lully for the first time ever and it was a goof think. I am so in love with my new cello. 
> 
> So, I have been busy, but here is another chapter. 
> 
> Please, left comments. I love to read whatever it is you think about this story so far.

OCTOBER 25th, 2002

HARRY

"Is there nothing new about the Narcissa Black case?" I ask Ron, as I take off the robes of the aurors and sit on the uncomfortable chair offered by the Ministry of Magic.

Ron looks up from the stack of papers in front of him and I watch him look at his cucumber sandwich disinterestedly.

"The only thing Blaise and I found at Rossé Cotage was nothing," he tells me, as he turns his chair around and faces Narcissa's genealogical map. "Vampires, werewolves with great abilities to control their change, shapeshifters..." Ron says regretfully. "And all we got was the words of an old woman who may be crazier than Trelauney and Dumbledore together."

I keep thinking about the words Ron just muttered.

"What is Rossé Cotage like?" I ask him, trying to get an idea of what could have happened in that place.

"It's not a little house," Ron tells me, sighing heavily. “It is more like a small town, like Hogsmeade. But, the houses are taller and not so white and pretty,” his eyes move around the office. “More like cold and dingy. Not to mention that all the people who inhabit the place are creatures.”

I stand up and walk to where the board is. At this point, and after my talk with Tonks' mom, I'm sure Andromeda has no idea what happened to Narcissa Black, much less what happened to her first-born.

"Andromeda Tonks was only called to St. Helen in Warsaw because she was the only magical relative they could find back then." I say to Ron, as I look carefully at everything in front of us. "Back in that time, Bellatrix was in Azkaban and her mother was as dead as they can be. Andromeda offered to give me memories of the last times she saw Narcissa Black and the day she was called to St. Helen."

I look at Ron and his face lights up as if someone had brought Christmas forward or declared Free Food Day.

"Last morning, when Blaise and I were at Rossé Cotage, one person said they could track down Narcissa Black if we had something personal about her," Ron tells me, his eyes still bright. "It's a kind of complex spell that only people who are almost fossil use," he says seriously. "Mione must know more about that. However, what is striking is that we did not see it before. I mean... Not her, nor her little vodoo shop.”

I nod, letting my gaze wander the suspect board.

"What kind of creatures inhabit Rossé Cotage?" I ask him for the second time, while my fingers rest on a particular name.

"According to the books: witches and wizards, goblins, fairies, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifter and countless other things you would never find in Hogsmeade."

I sigh, letting myself be carried away by my instinct.

"If Narcissa Black was really trying to hide from someone," I look at the board. "Who do you think she was hiding from?"

I see Ron look up at the clock on the wall of the room. Its red background and black hands make a really nice constant with the impersonal white background of all the offices in the aurors department.

"Not from the Blacks, you can take that as a fact, or at least, not from all of them," Ron tells me, as his eyes fly directly towards the board. "If we go in order you will notice a couple of things," I see him sit more comfortably in the most uncomfortable chair in the entire universe. "Sirius was accused of being a mass murderer and of the death of your parents. However, Sirius was the first Black to belong to Gryffindor and that was not enough for his mother to kick him out of the family. It was when he decided to reject his own family, leaving the everything to someone else.”

To Regulus.

"Narcissa Black did not leave due to lack of support from her family, then," I murmur, as I realize what Ron is saying. "Because they didn't kick her out, because she wasn't a fault."

"There are some blood purist families whom may have done it, but not Druella Black. She was a Rosier, after all and they had differents expectations." Ron tells me with calmness.

"But for what other reason would you abandon those whom you have known all your life?” I ask to no-one.

"For the same reason we thought she ran away," says Ron in a firm, clear voice.

"Family." He whispered and my eyes fall on Ron's. "He was trying to protect someone from her family."

Ron nods slightly.

"Not only the child in his womb, but all members of the Black family and possibly the child's father, maybe? We will have to look at it as a possibility." Ron spins in his chair. "Isn't there a family map in the Black house that Sirius left you that shows all that blood stuff and its members?"

I glanced up.

"Do you think we can find Draco Black in that piece of cloth there?" I ask hopefully.

"There's nothing to lose by trying," Ron tells me as he stands up and slips on the Auror robes. "If you want we can go in a few minutes, when the shift ends." Ron tells me. "I think Narcissa Black erased her son from the face of the earth with a pporpouse, Harry." He tells me in a serious tone. "Maybe she killed him before killing herself."

"There is no body about that baby, Ron," I say seriously. "At the moment we have to assume that Draco Black is alive. There is no other solution. If we pretend that he is dead and Voldemort finds him first then, he will have something that we do not. Something he wants and longs for, enough to let Yaxley be cooped up here with us.”

"We can go to Grimmauld after this, check if Draco Black shows up there," Ron tells me again.

"Take Mione, she has access to the house," I tell Ron.

"Aren't you coming?" she asks me in a serious tone.

However, I shake my head, while a smile appears on my lips. I take off the robes of the aurors and make it small, and then put it in my pants pocket.

"Sorry Ron, but it's Friday," when the clock strikes five, I immediately open the door and walk out of it.

"And Fridays are busy because?" Ron asks me, looking me in the eye.

I sighed, tiredly. We have been over this the last week-end.

"I already told you, Ron," I say seriously, as I stretch the leather jacket. "I'm dating someone."

Ron smiles.

"Great, Mione and I can go with you and have a double date," he says seriously.

I walk forward without looking at Ron and my eyes fall right on the door of the ministry elevator.

"No, Ron," I say seriously, as the doors open and Hermione's gaze greets me inside. "It's still too recent to think about introducing you two to him."

"Introduce ourselves to whom?" Blaise asks with his sweetest and most feigned smile I've seen in the two years I've known him.

"Harry's supposed boyfriend," Ron says with a smirk on his face. "Which I think doesn't exist because nobody knows his name or whom he is."

Blaise's smile widens.

"And how is this boy you like so much, Harry?" Blaise asks me, while his eyes sparkle wickedly.

"He's ... he's just a boy I met some time ago," I tell him and I'm not sure my voice is the strongest right now.

"And he hasn't introduced us yet," Ron mutters, leaning his body against the elevator wall.

"I said I would do it soon," I remind him annoyed. "When I am completely sure that you will not do something to scare him and he decide he don't want to see me ever again."

Blaise rolls his eyes and looks at me like I'm stupid.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life," he tells me, as he crosses his arms and crosses his arms. Yup, Blaise thinks I'm stupid. "Who wouldn't want to date Harry Potter? You are a legend, Harry. They all want to go out with you. Every wizard and witch I know would be completely happy to be with you on a date. And that you still do not destroy the Dark Lord.”

I let the air out of my lungs and bite my tongue.

"That is the matter, Zabini," I tell him in a serious tone. "Dray doesn't know who I am. What's more, he didn't even know my name until I told him one afternoon in the middle of a park.”

"What kind of wizard is stupid enough not to know your name?" he asks to nothing, while the doors open.

I turn around and look at the three of them.

"First, Dray is one of the smartest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting in my entire life," I tell them in a serious tone. "And second, he doesn't know my name because Dray is not a wizard, he is a Muggle."

Hermione smiles at me and I can see love shine through her warm eyes. Thank God for someone as cute as ´Mione.

"Is he Muggle?" she asks again and I nod gently. "And what did he study?"

The last conversation I had with Dray was specifically about that. But, Mione's first question is strange, he were over the Muggle topic this past week-end, which is rare coming from Hermione.

"I know he is the youngest member of the London Symphony Orchestra." I mumble, I really don't understand much about what Dray does.

"Wao, then, he must be around the same age as you," Hermione tells me, as she stops at the Brethren fountain.

I shake my head gently.

"He just turned twenty last month," I say to Hermione.

Blaise hits me on the shoulder, playfully.

"So you like them younger, hum, Harry?" he tells me between laughs.

"Shut up Zabini. And this is the reason why, if any of you ever had to meet Dray, I would only invite Hermione.” I say in a serious tone.

"And why is that, Harry honey?" Blaise whispers.

"Because I like his company and I want it to stay that way." I tell you in a serious tone. "See you tomorrow, Mione,” I tell her, as I wrap her in a hug and kiss her cheek. "Don't let these two kill each other with the force of their great ideas."

Hermione nods and let go of me.

"Go to your charming prince, Harry," and after that, I apparate just a few blocks before the place where I always stop to look for Dray before one of our outings.

Date, Harry, this time is a date.

And I smile to think that this time is a date. Maybe this time I can take his hand and maybe kiss his cheek.

"Harry!" The scream snaps me out of my musings, as I turn my head to where I hear Dray's voice. "Harry!" He calls me again and his hand moves in greeting.

I see him start running towards me and beyond his shoulder, I can see the girl who last time was holding her hand and laughing with the blonde. Without thinking twice, and without taking out my wand, I cast a hex of tangled legs at her, and I see her fall to the ground before she can open her big mouth to call Dray.

No one will come between me and the blond-haired angel. And least of all, not until I know what her true intentions are towards Dray.

"Dray," I sigh his name once I have it a couple of steps from my body. His face lights up like a Christmas tree and I see him gently tap his right cheek with his index finger.

I look him straight in the eye and after a couple of seconds, I see him roll his eyes.

"Am I not special to you?" he asks me pouting.

I smile for him and leave a kiss on his smooth, soft cheek. My heart beats at a thousand an hour. However, when I walk away, the smile that Dray has on his lips makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world.

"How was your day?" I ask her, as I walk beside her.

Dray looks me straight in the eye, his gray orbs glowing with pure amusement, while his lips try to hide a small smile.

"Well, it was just singing lessons," he tells me naturally. "And uh, a rehearsal with the orchestra in the morning." I see him stop, his hands in the pockets of his coat. "Will you come see me at my next concert? It will be in Southwark Cathedral."

"Sure," I say seriously, but my heart flutters inside my chest.

"Great" and the smile he gives me leaves me completely blind. "I will give you two tickets the following week. Bring someone with you, okay?”

"Sure," what's wrong with me?

"How was your day, Harry?" he asks me and his eyes are completely focuses on me.

"We fond the kid I had talked you about, in an abandoned warehouse, close to the Devil's Fall," I tell him. "Today, early this morning."

And it is true. We were as support for other aurors, to raid a Death Eater property. A few weeks ago a dark haired boy get kidnapped, Yaxley told us about him in passing. And just this morning, after midnight we were called in duty to help other aurors to raid the place.

Then, it was back to Narcissa's case.

"You are a hero, then," Dray told me with a small smile playing at his lips.

"I am not a hero, Dray," I let him know. "I am as human as they come."

Because that's not a wrong concept.

"Always so humble, Mister Potter," he tells me, trying to hide his giggle. "Where to, today?"

"To Sky Gardens," I answer his question softly.

I gather all the Gryffindor courage and take Dray's hand in mine, as we head to the place where I know, Dray always parks his truck.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco discovers Harry is a wizard. Harry discovers whom Dray's father is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been busy with final exams, final projects, concerts and the what-not, but here I am posting again. 
> 
> Please, left comments. I like to read what you think about this story.

OCTOBER 27th, 2002

HARRY

It's midnight and Dray is practically asleep on my shoulder. The moon illuminates the small clearing where Dray told me about each constellation that appeared in the sky and each star that is part of it and the stories behind each name. We are in a green open area outside London, and I can understand why he is so tire. We took the sub and then, a handful of busses and then we walked a few minutes to this beautiful place, a few minutes away from a small muggle village.

"Dray," I move him carefully, as I cast another warming charm on us.

I watch him slowly open his eyes, his orbs bathed in sleep, look at me with annoyance.

"Harry," I hear him complain, as I try to keep him awake. "Sleep."

"I know, love," I whisper carefully. "Come on, there's a place near here where we can spend the night." And by close I mean apparating in the middle of a witch's living room.

Carefully, I remove Dray's head and once I'm on my feet, help him stand up. He is up on shaky legs and I am pretty sure his brain is sleeping.

"Breathe." I whisper against his ear and just feel his head rest on my chest.

I press him against my body and wait for the right moment, listening to his breathing and as slowly, he begins to fall asleep a bit deeper. I think about my destiny and immediately feel the ground disappear, my body turning on its own axis, only to reappear in a completely different place. The candles glow softly in place and the wood floor looks as clean as the Hogwarts floor.

"Harry," the delighted head on the counter greets me. “Welcome to Chompa's House. Do you want me to call her? ” the disembodied head asks me, as it swings from one place to another. The mexican hat in its head moving along.

"No, I just need a room," I say quietly.

"Oh," the magical head says to me and I immediately see the enchanted object start to wink at me. "I never thought you were the type of young man who likes to be with boys for one night," she says playfully. "You're already maturing, Harry. Surely you want to have a lot of action,” he tells me in a whisper. "And not just from the aurors." and wiggle her eyebrows.

I feel my cheeks turn red as I try to control my heartbeat. I feel Dray stirring next to me, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids and I know he's starting to wake up. The enchanted head begins to speak again and my irritation grows when I know that her words will wake the blond.

"How are you going to have action if the child is falling asleep?" asks me. "Are you such a bad kisser that you killed him from boredom?" its asks me with his big eyes open.

I roll my eyes.

"No," I reply dryly. "I need a room on the muggle side." I say again and this time, I let magic escape the grip in which I hold it. I project my desire to sew her lips close, as my magic travels around the room.

A few seconds later the enchanted head goes still.

"I've never seen you like this before," the head says quitely.

"If you wake him up, I'll sew your your eyes shut as well," I say, as a cruel smile appears on my lips.

I hear it gasp.

"Room three, and no crazy noises," he says in frustration. "I will deduct it from your Gringotts account and collect a tax for being so annoying."

"Dray, I'm going to take you to rest now," I say to the blond in a low tone, but he doesn't even seem to notice. He is out cold again.

Being careful not to hurt him, I perform a maneuver taught in the aurors and in a few seconds, Dray's head is against my chest and I feel utterly happy. I am carrying him bridal style and he weights almost nothing, but that doesn't surprise me I am two inches taller then him and his complexion is rather, petite and delicate.

I laugh softly and walk down the long hallway to the bottom, until I reach door 3.

"Alohomora," I whisper, and the door slowly opens, I try to get Dray through the small door without hitting anything in the way. Once he's close to the bed I put him on the mattress and watch him curl up against the pillow. He is so weird, because he is the oly person I know that can sleep through apparating.

I bend down and remove the Adidas he is wearing and carefully put his feet onto the bed. I conjure a blanket from one of the cabinets and tuck him in with it. It is cold and in the brief time that I was disconcerted chatting with the enchanted head, Dray managed to absorb the cold of the place.

His gray eyes are open and narrowing, again, as he looks up at me.

"Where are we?" he asks trying to hide a yawn. His gray eyes, hidden under the curtain of his eyelids.

"In a safe place," I tell him, as I lift my wand and start putting ward upon ward. The strongest charm to seal a door, courtesy of Hermione and her eagerness to be safe. And then, I put that same enchantment on the window. Those are not even Auror material, most like an Unspeakeable spell.

"Harry," he says trying to beat the sleep away. "Stay by my side, please?" he asks me and I see him scope up to the other end of the bed. His breaths falling again.

I shake my head gently. As if I could deny him something.

"Sure, whatever you want," I say softly, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead once I'm settled in bed.

"Harry," he whispers and takes my hand in his.

I feel it immediately. The pulse of magic coming out of him makes contact with the magic inside me and I feel like everything around me is electrified. This is not my magic, this is magic. Magic in its purest state.

This is the pulse of magic that lives within Dray, that little flame that always accompanies him. Small, undeniable, helpless. A spark.

I smile. Dray is one of those few humans in the world who can occasionally gather magic and create what they call Miracles. Dray is like that, he has the flame inside him, small, but resistant. I place a kiss on his forehead, intertwining our hands. I feel him curl up against my side and I mutter a spell to keep him warm. My magic protects me, but I want Dray to be protected too. The last thing I want is for him to catch a cold.

"Nox," I mumble and the light go out. I let my magic roam the room free, digging into every crack in the concrete. I let her, my magic, be alert for me and I look up to the pitch black ceiling.

And while my magic is in the air, it's the smell of Dray's hair that calms me down until my eyes are too heavy to stay awake.

\+ + +

I feel something stirring strongly at my side, as if whatever was next to me was trying to escape the worst horror in the world. I open my eyes slowly, my magic, scattered in the room, is completely restless.

I reach out and immediately feel Dray. I sit up immediately, my eyes resting on his slim figure. His entire body seems to be fighting something that only he can see.

I put my hand on his shoulder and shake it carefully.

"Dray," I say softly. "Dray, it's just a nightmare. You have to wake up now. ”

His eyes move below his eyelids. My magic is restless and my whole body tenses. Once again, with a little more force, I shake the blonde's shoulders carefully, but he is still trapped in the nightmare. I sigh pulling my hands away from his body and rearranging my position on the bed to give him as much space as possible. The room is cold and I conjure two bluebell flames to heat ad light up the room.

I focus on Dray and how the room starts to rise, steadily, in temperature.

"Dray, it's just a bad dream. I promise you, it's not real,” I say in the dim light, my hand shaking his shoulder a bit forcefully.

I watch his eyes snap open and I see them glow in the dimly lit. Almost as silver as the moon that shone above our heads when we were in the middle of the forest.

I see him sit on the bed, his eyes wide and full of terror, resting on every surface of the almost bare room. I conjure a small blue fire flame and let it rise to the ceiling and the room immediately fills with clarity.

"Dray," I call him, yet I don't touch him.

His eyes are moving slow, but in the end they settle on me. His body leans towards me and his arms wrap around my neck. Taking care not to scare him, I let my hands rub his back.

"Harry," he whispers my name as if I am the most beautiful thing in the world. His small, delicate body trembles in my arms and I pull him to me.

"It's okay, it was just a bad dream. You're safe,” I whisper in his ear, as I press him against my chest and then loosen my grip a bit. "I am always going to protect you, no matter what."

His head comes to rest on my shoulder and for a moment I think everything is fine.

"You are a magician," he tells me as if that explained many things, his voice a bit rough with sleep.

"Does that scare you, Dray?"

I push him a bit away from me and look for his eyes. I see him shake his head, and then drop against me.

“No, it doesn't scare me,” his nose brushes against the skin of my neck and I feel a rush run down my back to my crotch. Eternal minutes pass and I think Dray is already in a deep sleep when I hear him murmur: "Dad is also a magician."

What?

"What's your dad's name?" I ask him. Perhaps it is wrong to ask just now that he is between sleep and consciousness. However, I can't think of anything else.

"Regulus," he says to me in a whisper, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "Regulus Black."

Fuck.

My blood get cold.


	11. Regulus: October 27th, 2002

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus meet Albus at Rossé Cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like it a lot when you guys left comments, so... left a few, I will be waiting to read what do you think. 
> 
> Enjoy with warm milk and cookies.
> 
> I am posting this before a two hour exam, so enjoy it!

OCTOBER 27th, 2002

REGULUS BLACK

This is my last day in France and the only thing I can think of is that I have been away from Dray for over a month. Usually this is something I dislike deeply, but this time I have no choice but, let it be.

I stand in front of an old building with red walls and a huge black door. I look both ways and my eyes immediately fall on Albus Dumbledore, the man who escaped death.

"Regulus," he says, nodding his head slightly. "How are you, old friend?" he asks me, his eyes resting on the door in front of us.

"I've had better days," I say, stepping forward and knocking my wand against the door. "Trust me."

I see Albus nod from the corner of my eye and I watch him advance until he is by my side.

"Dray?" he whispers under his breath.

I shake my head. My heart breaking inside of me. The door opens and a dark-skinned, curly-haired witch appears through it.

"Gentlemen," she says, as she steps aside and lets us through.

My eyes fall on the room that is practically empty. Filled with candles and incense, it reminds me of Trelawney's classroom and I can't help but smile on my lips.

"Remembering old times, Regulus?" she says to me and I see her sit in front of me. "Do I remind you of anyone?" she asks me with her eyes closed, her head tilted to the side.

"Vaguely," I reply, sitting down on the carpet that covers the floor.

"You brought what I asked of you, Regulus," she says and extends her elegant hand.

That has always struck me as something strange about this woman. One changes shapes of an almost extinct race. However, I take out my wand and use it to take out a small bag containing one of Dray's favorite gloves.

"I brought what you asked of me," I tell her carefully, as I move the wand towards her, letting the bag float in the air and drop right onto a small plate with powders that I don't know what they are and I don't want to know either.

I see her nod.

"How's your hand, Albus?" she asks, while conjuring a violet flame and making it float on the glove that I have brought. "Did it hurt?"

Albus looks at the candle.

"Maybe you want to take a look at it, my dear Zephora," Albus reaches out, Zephora's hand not touching his skin.

"Albus," she says, her face looking elsewhere. “It is time to ask forgiveness for your sins. Especially the little heir of death. For hurting him and turning him into a weapon, for destroying his heart and soul. For making it black as coal, you must ask your forgiveness. ” I see her breathe deeply. “Albus, otherwise I don't assure you that you can find peace after dark. Remember that you are not entirely alive and the time borrowed will always have a price and it will come to an end, soon.”

Albus retracts his hand.

"I will, Zephora," he says, his eyes looking down at the floor. "You don't know how much I regret doing it that way, hurting him until it scared."

Zephora shakes her head.

“I am not asking you to apologize for your actions, but for what we have forced him to do. The destiny is hard to change, Albus, but the feelings... They are like raw honey, ready to be changed to somethig else, something sweeter,” her head points to the ground. "Regulus," she says, raising her head. "Thanks for taking care of Dray." She says to me like she's doing the world a favor.

"I didn't do it because it was an obligation, Zeph," I say seriously. "But because I love him. From the first moment he opened his eyes to the day I found him crying with his silver head covered in blood," for a moment my memories take me back in time. "I've loved Draco since he was a new born and I still love him, maybe more and more every day." I add a distracted whisper.

Zeph nods, while a sweet smile, one of those rare smiles to see in someone like her, appears on her lips. I watch her place her hands on the black glove and begin to whisper words in an almost dead language, even to magicians.

"Zeph?" I call her when I see her stop, her head thrown to one side.

Her eyes move under her pupils, as if she is seeing with her eyes closed. And I know it is so, I know she can do it. I'm about to stand up, when Zephora's hand stops me completely.

"Wait, Regulus," she says to me in a thin voice.

I force my body to stay still and relaxed. My magic feels strained within my own core and my body itches. At one point Zephora's eyes widen, allowing me to see orbs as white as milk.

"Time is up, Regulus," she tells me, as her hands sit still on the black glove.

"What?" is the only thing I can say at the moment. Too many emotions clouding my judgment.

"What do you mean, Zephora?" Albus asks, trying to confirm the terror that has attacked me for years.

I take several deep breaths, trying to reign over my emotions. Zephora looks at me with her eyes open, a rare occurrence these days.

"The seal that was put on Draco when he was baby is breaking. His magic will reach its peak during the next new moon and then the seal will completely break. The magic that has hidden it from the magical beings who seek him and from those who wait for him, will be broken.” She says with a serious look.

"I thought the seal would not be broken until he received his inheritance," my voice sounds strange even to my own ears.

Zephora looks at me.

"You know that's a half truth, Regulus," the seer whispers to me. “If Draco feels his soulmate close, the person who is the one for him, his magic will prepare him to receive his other partner. His magic will try to be at the same magical level of the one his mate's. If he finds it, his magic will unfold faster in an attempt to measure up to the other.”

I swallow audibly.

"Draco doesn't have a girlfriend," I tell Zephora.

She smiles at me.

"No one ever said it had to be a soulmate of the opposite sex, Regulus," she says with a mischievous smile. "Magic does not seek sex, only other magically compatible being."

"So, his soulmate can be whatever?" I ask her, feeling my body growing cold.

"Draco is not even human, Regulus," she tells me. "But, I think it will be a human, since his kind is almost inexistent."

"Do you think Draco has already had contact with his soulmate?" Albus asks her with his bright eyes shinning.

Zephora gently shakes her head.

"No," she says softly. “I think he already know who his soulmate is. He already know its name. He've already talked to his other half. He's already touched it and not just physically,” she says with a light smile. "I am sure, the bond is already there. The moon have been too bright these past days."

"What will happen when the seal is broken?" I ask fearing the worst.

"Nothing strange, Regulus," her voice filled the room. “The parts of his body that his father cut off when he was a newborn will never grow again, my dear friend. His eyes are exactly as they should be. His skin color is exactly as it should be, even after his seal is broken nothing of him will physically change. The only thing that will change is the amount of magic that other wizards will feel that he emanates. He will not grow wings, because those of his kind does not have it, because those of his kind does not need them. He will not become violent, since his species is one of the purest that have walked on earth.” Zephora's eyes shine just like Dumbledore's. “He will remain the Dray you loved and adored when he was just an infant, unable to eat more than milk and honey. And it will continue to be the same child you brought to his first day of class, music classes, and karate classes. ” Zephora pauses. "He won't be someone else, he will just be more."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco are still on their week-end date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be posted last Friday, but I fell and I hurt my back pretty bad. So, I had to spent the last days resting on bed with a high muscular relaxant and opioids pills to get all better. 
> 
> I missed a concert I couldn't play, but well. I cannot mourn that all day. Instead I come here to proof read this and post it. 
> 
> There will be another chapter this Friday as well. Sorry I couldn't post on Friday. I am not letting this story alone :D
> 
> XOXO

OCTOBER 28th, 2002

HARRY

Stag looks at me with his silver, ethereal eyes, his antlers moving in the direction where Dray is asleep. His body in a ball in the wide bed, covered by the sheets. His cream skin contrasting beautifully against the crimson red of my Gryffindor jersey shirt.

Last night we visited Sky Gardens with its fairy-tale-like-lights and the smell of eart lingering in the air. I think the only thing Dray loves about that place is the endless trees and flowers that the place owns. A small forest suspended over London. And that same place, where I saw Dray caress the flower petals was the same place where I found the strength to tell Hermione and Ron what is happening.

Regulus is one of the last people to be with Narcissa Black when she was alive, if they are father and son, it is possible that this boy, so sweet and beautiful, could be Draco Black and if so, he will need all the protection he can have. even if he doesn't fit in our profile at all.

"Hermione, immediate meeting at Grimmauld Place, I need Neekeal, Robards and Shacklebolt," I say to Stags and once the message is over, I see the Patronus dance in the room and then disappear.

I sit on the edge of the bed and shake Dray carefully.

"Hey sweethart," I say quietly. "We need to go," I say again. "The time we paid for will soon be up."

I see him sigh, his gray eyes rest on me and I feel so bad to wake him up, however, it's almost noon and I need to get him home safe and sound. And I need to put a few incantations wherever you are living right now, Dray.

I see him rub his eyes and fall into that state between sleep and awakening. His small hands, scrubbing the sleep out of his system and right away, I scurry in the shower, trying to keep it pure, even in my thoughts. I take the longest shower in my life, it's cold and one of the disadvantages of being in a place as cheap as this is that... There is no hot water.

Once I get out, Dray is sitting on the bed looking nowhere in particular. I clear my throat to let him know of my presence and immediately his head turns in my direction. His cheeks are tinged with the purest pink color I have ever seen.

"Breakfast?" I ask him, while I approach him and extend my hand.

Dray lays his on mine and my magic begins to sing in my blood. This is another thing that I should talk to Hermione as soon as possible.

"Okay?" Dray asks me and then shakes his head quickly. "Okay. I will bathe once I have eaten breakfast.”

I laugh softly, as I pull him to me and conjure my wand. Then lead us to the door of the room.

"If you want to bathe before we go, you have 10 minutes to eat breakfast. Our time will end in an hour." I let him know, looking at my own watchwrist.

"It is a very beautiful place," Dray tells me out of nowhere, stopping to see the portrait of a very young woman who seems to be in the middle of a pile of ruins. "Do you know what that place is, Harry?" I shake my head gently. "They are the ruins of Berlin." He answers me, with his eyes still on the painting.

Until the woman moves, her hands moving in gentle greeting. Dray's eyes widen as he approaches the painting of the woman who smiles at him. Dray places her hand on the painting again and I see her close her eyes.

"You are very cute," Dray's whisper softly and I hear the sound reverberate on the walls.

The woman in the magic portrait blushes and looks at us.

"You are also very handsome as well," she replies, and it is the strangest thing I have ever seen.

I have come to this place whenever I need to be away from my home or Grimmauld Place. This place and the Poza de Chompa are the only two places that I know of that have an area for both: Muggles and magicians, within the same building. And that's because, in Chompa's case, she is a witch who married a Muggle, but here at Lauren’s Place… I know Lauren is a Muggle, but her child and grandchildren are wizards, the mother of a witch and she didn't saw Harry Potter the first time we met, she saw a kid that needed a room. Most purebloods don't come here, too dirty for their tastes. And even those who tolerate Muggles don't come that often, they don't know how to really behave in the presence of a Muggle.

Dray looks at me and his little eyes sparkle like Christmas trees. I take his hand and lead him out into the garden, where I know Lauren sets up a variety of breakfast items, the little wooden tables surrounded by a huge, beautiful garden.

And yet the one I see before even thinking about taking Dray towards the food is Rowle.

"Harry," Dray calls me, tugging on my hand, his eyes on mine, mine on Rowle. I see Rowle turn quickly.

"You," he says seriously, as he begins to raise his wand. "Harry Potter, I will take you to my Lord and you will die at his hands."

Dray looks at me, his orbs filling with fear will I tug him, until he is pressed to my chest. Rowle raises his wand and I only see the red beam charging towards us. I lifted a protego around us and it split with the force of Rowle's attack.

"Don't look, Dray," I say seriously. I think about my destiny and the next moment, I feel my magic push on the barrier soft ward that sorrounded Lauren's, until it makes a crack in it. The universe swallows us and we land right in the dining room of Grimmauld Place.

"Harry?" Dray is shaking in my arms and his hands are clenched into my shirt.

The house is empty except for Minerva McGonagall and Neville Longbottom. I nod briefly in greeting, carefully tightening my hold on Dray.

"Everything is fine, Dray," I whispered against his ear. "We are in a safe place now. I promise."

Dray peels his face off my chest and his skin is so pale, he looks like a ghost. His eyes sweep all the people in the room and his eyes stay glued to...

"Harry," Hermione calls me. Behind her Kingsley, Neekeal and Robards appear, closely followed by Ron and… Alastor fucking Moody. However, when Hermione's eyes fall on my guest's silhouette, her steps freeze. Her eyes setting on us and I feel a slight blush cover my cheeks.

"Wait a minute, 'Mione," I say seriously. Priority. "Kreacher," and immediately the old elf appears in the room. "Take Dray upstairs and give him a change of clothes of mines."

Kreacher bows, his nose touching the ground and then fixes on Dray and steps back, his large eyes showing terror.  
Dray looks at him with pure curiosity, softening his hold on my shirt.

"Master Harry, Kreacher cannot serve a creature," he tells me in a scared tone. "Less to ... to ... a ..." but, he does not complete the sentence and disappears into thin air.

Ugh, sometimes I hate house elves.

"Uh ..." Dray says softly, his cheeks turning red. "Sorry Harry, I didn't..."

However, I shake my head.

"Wait here," I say to everyone present. "Come with me, love," I say taking his shoulders with my hands and directing him towards the stairs. "It's here," This is my current room. “You can take a shower or sit in the tub for as long as you want. Okay,” I say, as I gently push him into the bathroom. Once we're in the bathroom, I start to turn on all the taps letting the tub fill up. I conjure clean underwear, a red jumper, and a pair of black trackies. "You don't have to go downstairs if you don't want to, but I would like you to come down to have breakfast with me," I say creating an invisible circle over his hand.

Dray smiles at me and then I see him start to pull off his jumper. I turn around and walk out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I smile as I feel the slight magical pulse coming out of Dray's body, it feels stronger than yesterday, yet it's not big enough. With this force, not even a Wingwardium Leviosa could come out of a wand.

And it is what leads me to wonder: Why is the magic flame so weak and yet so present in Dray? It's odd.

I go down the steps one by one and just as I enter the room all eyes fall on me. Hermione's curious gaze, Ron's ever-thinking eyes, Kingsley's intense gaze, and Moody's suspicious gaze bring me back to the real world.

"Harry," Kingsley is the first to speak. “You called us here for a particular reason. What is that so urgent that you have to tell us on a Sunday? ”

I nod slightly.

"Kreacher," I say seriously, and immediately the elf appears next to me.

"Master, Harry," he says in a serious tone.

"Breakfast, please," I say in a friendly tone and the elf bows briefly.

I sigh and drop into the chair behind me.

"Harry," Robards urges me.

I run my hands over my face and remember that I haven't changed my clothes and I haven't had breakfast either. However, I wish I could wait for Dray to start this meeting, but the blond is the last who should know about my involvement in this crappy war.

Which leads me to wonder, what was Rowle doing at Lauren's inn?

"Who is the person who came with you, Auror Potter?" Neekeal asks me in a serious tone. "He has magic inside him, I can feel that."

I sigh heavily.

“If you can feel it, then you can also feel that his magic is not strong. That of a fetus is stronger,” I say in a serious tone. "The person up there is a mystery. However, his name is Dray. Dray Black,” I tell them in a serious tone.

The faces of everyone present is something that perhaps I will never forget.

"Harry, are you telling me that that person up there may be Draco Black?" Kingsley asks me seriously.

I shrug.

"I don't know, Kingsley," I say seriously, my hand ruffling my hair. "His age doesn't match with what we are looking for. Draco Black should be twenty-two years old, like me, born in June. However, that boy up there is twenty, just turned a few weeks ago.” I say to him in serious tone. "We should be looking for a magician, instead we have a squib," I reported wearily. "The only thing that fits are two things, his name has half the phoneme of the person we are looking for and his father is Regulus Black."

Neekeal and Robards look at each other and then look at Kingsley.

"That's impossible, Harry," Robards tells me. "It is impossible because Regulus Black died before Voldemort murdered your parents."

"I don't know if it has the mark," I say to Robards in a serious tone. "But, from how upset Dray was a couple of nights ago, I'm almost certain that Death Eaters chased them, or chased his father at some point, during Dray's childhood."

I stand up and walk to the wall that contains the Black family tree. However, Narcissa's branch is extended to show a baby with blue eyes and almost no hair. However, below is the date of birth and next to it is also an infinity symbol.

"If he's a squib, how does that fit into Voldemort's plans?" Hermione asks, her brain moving at a mile per second.

"It doesn't fit, Mione," I hear Ron reply. "Voldemort is not known for making friends with squibs or muggles," I feel a chill go down my spine. "He is more well known for torturing them."

I hear footsteps approaching and immediately a silver head appears in the room. Dray's gray eyes are fixed on each of those present and his hands grab the door frame.

"Hello, beautiful," I can't help the nickname from escaping my lips.

Dray looks at me and smiles at me.

"Are they all magicians?" ask the room.

"Wizards, yes," Shackelbolt says.

However, Hermione stands up and I immediately see Dray take a step back. His stay changes completely and his eyes scan Hermione's body as if he's searching for something.

"I have heard of you," she tells her in a sincere tone. Her eyes sparkling. "Harry said you are the youngest member of the London Symphony Orchestra." Hermione tells him, as if that information was in any of the books that she has been reading over the years.

Dray nods and I can breathe easy.

Kreacher appears with a tray of food. Sandwiches, scrambled eggs and tea. I see Dray lose complete interest in Hermione to launch himslef into the house elf and take his hands in his. Neekeal, Robards and Shackebold have their eyes on the little blond.

"Hi, I'm Dray," he says to the house elf in a quick tone once his hands carefully close on the old elf's arms. "Did I do something to bother you?"

A giggle escapes my lips at the question. All I can think of is that the fact that Dray is a squib offends the elf. However, what catches everyone's attention is that when Kreacher snaps his fingers to fade away, absolutely nothing happens.

Thats weird.

"I'm paying attention to you," Dray tells him in the most innocent way in the world, because it's a gesture Muggles use to get other people's attention when they're not paying attention. "I promise."

His gray eyes rest on the elf who, according to my calculations, is about five hundred years old.

"Kreacher knows your people," he says in a serious tone. “And you are not like them. You are an abomination that must have died, mudblood. ” Kreacher looks at him with so much hatred and I feel the desire to intervene.

Something changes in Dray's eyes.

"Kreacher!" Hermione admonishes him. "That is not polite." The pulse of magic that surrounds the house grows exponentially. "Dray," Hermione tries to catch up with him, as I begin to take steps towards the blonde.

"Love," however, I can't say more, when I feel the whole room around us darken and the magic grows stronger.

Fear nests in my chest, as I watch Dray's eyes shine like liquid mercury. However, my blood drains when I hear Moody's voice.

"Why is there a stranger in this place?" Moody asks, standing up and raising his wand at Dray. "Especially one that reeks of black magic."

That set me off me deeply. Dray raises his face so fast that I'm afraid he's hurt himself, as my brain tries to process what Mad Eye just said. And yet, I can't say anything when the man pulls out his wand.

"He is a Squip," is all I can say.

“Anima Revelio,” but, the lightning bolt comes out of Moody's wand before he even blurts out a word and the lightning bolt hits Dray square in the chest.

My feet responds and I hold Dray in my arms when I see him lose his balance and immediately a piercing scream fills the entire house. I see Dray scratch the skin of his chest over his clothes and his screams break my soul.

"Moody!" Kingsley reprimands him and yet all I can do is pull out my own wand and mumble a soft finite, trying to get all my magic out in the moment.

However, nothing happens.

"Make it stop," I say to Moody in a serious tone. My magic vibrating furiously around me. "You're hurting him!"

I pressed Dray to my body, enveloping him with my magic, but nothing happens. His screams and moans of pain still reverberate in the room.

"You're torturing him," Shacklebolt yelled at Moody, who is still holding his wand. I feel the tears go down my cheeks, and I see a layer of pearl sweat on Dray's forehead. "Please, Dray," I whisper, pressing him closer to my body.

Until I slowly watch him lose consciousness, his voice fading, his breaths stopping. I put my fingers on his jugular. His pulse is so slow and his skin is so pale that I am afraid he will die. Until he stops breathing and his heart stops completely.

My soul is shattered within my body.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on vacations officially and I am so happy about that. But, I have classes to attend still and performances to do. But, I have more free time.

OCTOBER 29th, 2002

HARRY

I hear the sound of a person appearing in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place where this all started. Dray's lifeless body is upstairs in my room, on my bed wrapped in an ecstasy spell that Hermione helped me put on last night. Thirty-two hours have passed since Dray's heart stopped.

"Harry," I hear my best friend's voice and immediately her arms wrap around my body in a crushing bone hug. "How are you feel?" she asks me in a kind tone.

I lift my face from the cup in front of me as new people enter the room. However, I don't let Hermione go, I cling to her little hands, trying to keep my pain at bay.

"Harry," McGonagall tells me with the same voice of a worried mother. "I am so sorry."

I don't even want to give her an answer. I see Sirius come through the door and wrap me in his huge arms and I feel like a little boy, crushed between his father and his older sister, and all I can do is hide my face in Sirius' chest and cry.

"Everything is going to be all right, punk," he tells me almost in a whisper.

But, I don't feel that way. I feel like half of my soul has been ripped out of my chest and destroyed in the process. I feel overwhelmed, lonely and broken. My body is numb and soul feels cold.

"Nothing will be right, because he doesn't breathe," I try to keep it together. "Nothing will be ok because he's cold," my voice comes out in broken sobs. "Because he is dead."

"The Revelio Anima was not supposed to kill him," I hear Moody's voice and immediately feel my hand itch and my hand closes around my wand. “Nothing like this has ever happened to any magician. It is not something that tortures a person. It's just something that would put him to sleep if his intentions were hostile.” My magic is angry inside my veins and it's whispering a single word: maim.

I move away from Sirius's chest.

"He is a squib!" the cup that I left on the table shattered spontaneously. “You have no idea what something like that spell can do to a human. You had no right to cast an enchantment on him. I brought Dray here because Rowle almost hit him with a Cruciatus when he saw him with me yesterday morning, I thought he would be safe here. I believed that good people would protect him. I thought… ”

Sirius pulled me to his chest and I feel really exhausted to continue this battle with Moody. the only thing I wanna do is go upstair and watch Dray sorrounded in the Extasis bubble. Even if it is a bit masochist, I will cling to whatever thing I can hold to keep him. A necromancer can bring him back if I keep his body intact, I will know all about the process, I was the one who keep Dumbledore's body intact until Snape took him away.

"Albus will be here any minute now, Harry," Hermione tells me. "He will fix this."

And still, I don't feel anything inside me.

"Minerva, Alastor," Sirius says in a serious tone. "Would you leave us alone?"

I don't hear anyone's answer, but I do hear the door open and close. I know the Weasleys are in the living room, but I really don't want to see anyone. At least not today.

"Harry," Sirius tells me, as he pushes me until I am sitting in a chair. "I need you to calm down." He tells me in a serious tone. "I know it hurts, but you need to breathe."

The door opens and I see Mrs. Weasley enter through it. She looks at me with her blue eyes full of pain and I quickly nod, because I can't deny this to her. Not her, who has loved me as her own son since the day she met me.

"Harry," she says, taking my hand in her. "I'm so sorry, my boy."

"How long have you been with this boy?" Sirius asks me.

"Two weeks maybe," I reply in a serious tone. "We'd only had two dates, maybe." My voice breaks, my chest hurts and I try to breathe.

"I'm so sorry, my boy," Mrs. Weasley says to me and I feel her squeeze me in her arms. And even then it's not enough to make me feel less cold, less hurt, less broken...

Less empty.

"Molly," I hear Albus's voice, and there are two people in the room that I have never seen in my life. "Sirius, Miss Granger, Harry," Dumbledore greets in his serious voice. It is the least common thing in the world, and yet I find nothing within me except sadness and desolation.

"Let me introduce you to some old friends," Dumbledore gestures at the two strangers. "She is Zephora Zambroni and he is ..."

"Reggie," Sirius whispers. "But…"

"Hello, brother," Regulus greets him from afar, scanning the entire room with his eyes. "Where's my brat?"

I close my eyes, knowing that everyone is looking at Regulus Black.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Black," I open my eyes and rest them on my godfather's brother. "My intention was never to hurt Dray. I brought him here because Rowle saw him with me yesterday morning, and he almost..."

Regulus Black looks at me with knowing, and at the same time, sad eyes.

"I know, Harry Potter. You don't have to apologize,” he says seriously, and I don't feel prejudiced in his voice. "I need you to show me where Dray is." And his voice is a bit more then a calm whisper.

I look him back in the eyes and a faint smile appears on his lips. And the only thing I can think of is this was not the answer I expected. Dray is so theatrical, so playful and so full of life... This tame answere is not what I was especting.

"Dray is not alive, Mister Black," I reply and the man just nods softly. "I thought I did bring him here after an incident with a Death Eater ... I thought it was the safest place and ... Now I don't ..."

"I know, Harry," his hand rests on my shoulder. "But, Dray, is not dead either."

"But, sir," I stand up. "His heart stopped beating yesterday afternoon." My magic escapes and something else breaks in the kitchen. "When a heart stops beating it is because a person has died."

Regulus Black gives me another smile and his eyes dance, a gesture that I have seen in Dray's own eyes when he is sure of something.

"Harry," Albus calls out to me and I turn my head. "We need to see Dray."

I nod slightly.

"He's in my room with an ecstasy spell covering his body," I tell them, feeling defeated.

The dark-skinned woman takes my hand and begins to drag me to where the stairs are. I see her move around the house with her eyes closed. Without stumbling even once. I feel like in a trance, where the only thing I can do is follow this stranger through my godfather's house.

And suddenly she stops in front of my room.

"The only one who can open this door is you, Harry Potter," she says in a voice that reminds me of the voice of the Unspeakeables. "If someone else tries to open it, I do not guarantee his or her safety." She pats me lightly on the hand. "Go ahead, Harry. Dray is waiting for you.”

I swallow and open the door to my room. The room that had been mine since I was fourteen and I breathed deeply, until my eyes fell on the figure of Dray. His pale, almost bluish skin, and the glow of the spell on his body.

The door slammed shut on its own and my magic went on alert. I had never felt her so aggressive as in the past few days.

"Harry Potter," the woman calls me. "You have to open the curtains so that the moonlight comes in through the window," she tells me in that ethereal tone that makes the hair stand on end. "And then you will have to call Dray with your power."

I glance at her. However, after a few minutes, I can only nod.

"Take him in your arms and sit with him on the ground, where the moonlight can bathe the both of you," the woman tells me, I turn to look and ask, however, there is no one else in this room. "Your magic will guide you, Harry Potter."

The woman's voice echoes in the room and I approach the bed. The magic surrounding Dray's body slowly fades, as I mumble a sof Finite, and I feel my heart break again when my hands rest on his face and I feel him as cold as an ice cube. Being careful not to hurt his slender body, I carefully maneuver him until I have him in my arms and carefully lift him from the bed and lower us both to the ground, where the moonlight bathes us both.

"Dray," I whisper his name, sticking his silver head to my chest. "Please, my love," my whispers turn to sobs. "Please, Dray," I feel the tears trickle down my cheeks, as I try to hold on to her body, her silver head resting on my chest, her body tight against mine. "Please come back. I can't… I can't without you, ”my magic leaves my own body, leaving me completely empty and at the same time lost. I close my eyes and cry for everything I have lost in a matter of a single night, I cry for everything I would like to do and perhaps, now I can never do. "I love you, Dray," and it's a broken sob. "Please, my love, do not abandon me."

My tears run down my cheeks and as I share my pain with my magic and the moonlight that seeps through the window, I feel how a vacuum is created inside me that quickly swallows the light I have left. My chest burns from crying and still I don't stop holding Dray with everything I have. Time passes and it feels like an eternity, until I feel him arch my arms.

A small silve smoke left his mouth and in a matter of seconds his body warms up. His head moves towards my chest, as if Dray is looking for heat and I left a kiss on his head.

"Please," I plead with all the gods that exist that this is not an imagination of my head. "Please," but when I put my fingers on his neck and feel the slight pulse of his heart begin to pick up speed, I let out a sigh of relief.

I conjure my Patronus, who seems to have gained one more branch on his antlers and looks brighter.

"Dray is breathing, I need the lady who came with Dumbledore," I finish the message and send my Patronus to wherever Dumbledore is.

"My moon is shinning," and I cannot help it. A new tear roll down my cheek.

One though is swirling inside my head: There's no more darkness. My moon is shinning.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head hurt a freaking lot, but here is the next chapter. I hope you all can be satisfied, I am. 
> 
> XOXO

OCTOBER 30th, 2002

HARRY

I open my eyes and the first thing I see is Dray's head hidden by my side. His almost white hair reflecting the faint sunlight streaming through the window. His skin is no longer bluish, but a bit more human, and when my hand rests on his forehead I can feel the heat coming, washing over me like a calming wave.

It was not a dream. Dray is alive.

I lean over him and let a kiss on his forehead. I watch him stir, looking for a more comfortable ange and I move the blanket up to his neck.

"Get well soon, precious," I whisper in his ear and left one more kiss on his temple.

I start to make my way to the bathroom door in my room and I take a quick shower, brush my teeth and put on clean clothes. I carefully walk out of the room, trying not to wake Dray, and I immediately feel like a rope is tugging at my heart.

And yet it doesn't feel evil. It is a warm feeling that makes me shiver. A smile falls on my lips as I walk down the stairs to the old Black house and the first person I met is Alastor Moody. Without thinking I throw a stinging hex aimed at his hand.

"Potter," he says in a serious tone, but I don't care. "Watch what you are doing, boy."

"You should follow your own words, Moody," I cross my arms on my chest. "Next time it won't be a stinging hex."

"Are you threatining me, brat?" his voice is a low growl. "I have years figthing Wizards that are worst then you."

"Yes, because they love to kill. But, wanting and power are two different things." I spat the words to his face. "Remember Moody, I know all the shit you know, and then a bit more." Because Dumbledore can't have a stupid Savior.

I pass past him and aim another sting he hex at his arm. It will be gone in a few hours, nonetheless I have to make clear that Dray is not a person to be mess with, neither am I.

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley greets me once I enter the dining room. "Have breakfast. There's a little bit of everything."

I look at all the people around the table, which I don't remember that much. I sit next to Hermione and look at Ron, who seems to be inhaling his food. Mrs. Weasley leaves a plate full of food in front of me and when I lift my eyes Zephora Zambroni is sitting in front of me. Her open eyes show irises as white as milk, a unique contrast compared to her tan skin.

"Thank you," I say quietly. "For helping Dray."

Zephora looks at me and shakes her head. A soft smile appearing in her lips.

"That's the universe, Harry Potter," she says to me with an airy voice. "If it is not in balance, then it cannot be." I watch her look at Albus and Regulus. They both just nod. "Now that all the interested is..." she begins to say in a serious tone. "You may come in now, Mister Minister of Magic," she says knowingly, as Kingsley walks through the door. "Like I was saying, now that all the interested are here, there are certain things you have to know about Dray Black, the guy upstairs resting."

"His real name is Draco Black," Regulus says out loud, choking me on the piece of toast in my mouth. And from the amount of people coughing in the room, I know I'm not the only one having problems to swallow. "However, his name and magic had a seal. A seal that prohibited his full name from being spoken or remembered, only by those of us who knew his original name from the beginning. We were unable to say his name to a stranger.”

This is the person Voldemort has long sought.

"And just because all of you know his name now, it doesn't mean you will be able to say it in the future," continues Dumbledore. “Dray's original name will continue to have that seal. which will force you to never speak it. Until this war is ended.”

Hermione nods quickly and I can practically see the gears in her brain move.

"Why did you seal his power?" she asks without giving anyone a chance to assimilate the new news.

Regulus, Zephora and Dumbledore look at each other and at the end it is Regulus who nods.

"Dray was born under the name Draco Black, because his mother, Narcissa Black, had not married the man she had fallen in love with, and whom she intended to marry once Dray was one year old." Regulus's eyes quickly sadden. "However, Draco was born not as a magician, but as something else." He pauses and I see him look at the loaves in the center of the table. "Draco was born as an Argentum."

Hermione gasps in surprise and I see her shake her head over and over.

"But, that's just myths," she says in an altered voice.

"They are not myths, Hermione Granger," Zephora replies. "Here in the UK the magical society is a small group of magicians and giants and certain magical creatures who do not really possess an intellect. Other creatures are not welcome in this country and have therefore been eradicated elsewhere. Places where other ministries accept them and let them have a job, and they don't regulate them as if they were abominations of nature or as if they were beneath their feet.” Zephora's voice is as cold as an ice floe. “The Veela clan that resides here don't even contact British magicians, house elves are one of the few magical creatures British Wizards allow on their premises. It is not to be expected that the knowledge of British Wizarding World to be almost nil in that regard.”

"What is an Argentum?" Ron asks, the same way he asks questions in the auror meeting room. "And why erased his name?"

"An Argentum is a kind of elf that uses black magic." Hermione replies in a serious tone. "They can perform Necromancy without a..."

Zephora rolls her eyes so hard that it's impressive that she couldn't see her own brain in that movement.

"Just because the British Wizarding Population met rogue elves, it doesn't mean they are all bad, Hermione Granger," Zephora's voice makes chills run through my entire body. "I am the reason why Albus Dumbledore is alive after Bellatrix Lestrange launched an Avada Kedavra on him. I am a seer, but I was also born with the skill of necromancy. And I'm not going through life raising all the dead, just assisting the universe so that there is always a balance." She breathe again. "Beside, Argenti are not Necromancers, as a lot of people is prone to say. They are powerful yes, but that's not something the kid can do."

"What is an Argentum, Zephora?" I ask the same as Ron, this time without giving anyone room to speak.

“An Argentum is an elf, an elf of the moon. They rarely come to the universe. They are known as emissaries of death, but in reality they only assist souls in their transition from this world to the next. They guide them to walk the right path and not get lost, or to stall... stay in limbo, wandering for all eternity.” Zephora breathes. “The Argenti, as their plural name is, are elves of the highest level, their magic is pure to the ground and the few who have been born in this world are entities with great height. Dray is rather short for one of his kind, but retains all other traits. Silver hair like the moon, silky like clouds, skin as white as snow and stars in burns in his eyes.”

I smile to hear her talk about Dray like that.

"Argenti are warriors by nature," continues Dumbledore. “However, they are not looking for fights. They are calm and quiet, although Dray being raised by certain humans and other creatures is quite... Exotic and a little different. His power is similar to yours Harry Potter, but Dray doesn't need a wand to perform magic. No Argenti needs it."

"So he has magic inside him," I whisper. "He is not a squib," I say in a louder voice.

"I'm sure you could feel the spark gently dance inside his body." Zephora tells me, winking at me.

I take a bite of the breakfast Mrs. Weasley made and feel a great weight lift from my shoulders.

"Wait," says Hermione, and everyone at the table stops eating to pay attention to ‘Mione. "She said he is an Argentum and that they are not like... Dark creatures. A kind of elf,” and her eyes sparkle, as if a planet is being born within them. "However, he does not have pointy ears like house elves."

"Or any other elf," complete Ron, wrinkling his nose.

Regulus lowers his mug and I see him look up, like he's trying to… blink tears away. I watch Zephora put her hand on Regulus's shoulder, as the last man takes a deep breath and his fists clench and unon the knife in his hand.

"What's it Reggie?" I look at Sirius, who only looks at his brother with the same face he used to look at me when I was 14 and some spell went wrong and ended up breaking something or the other.

Regulus lets out all the air accumulated in his lungs and swallows heavily.

"When Dray was days from being born, Cissa took him with her to a small cabin on the outskirts of Wales, and when Dray's biological father came to see him for the first time, he noticed that his son had elf ears," he says with a voice as cold as snow. "So, he cast a spell on Cissa and took the little baby with few hairs and blue eyes and..." I see him look into the distance, as if he could see Dray's biological father in that same room. "He cut off Dray's 'excess of ears', his inhumanity," says Regulus, and my stomach becomes a huge knot. “That afternoon, I had to go to Cissa's, to make sure that little Dray had everything he needed in that little house near a Muggle village. But when I got there, Dray was in his crib, his pale head glowing red and his little eyes closing with exhaustion. The Death Eater Cissa had fallen in love with, the one that had promised her, the one that had changed, held his wand with a big smile on his lips as he watched the little ‘Abomination’ slowly bleed into a crib.” Tears fall from Regulus' eyes and I hear Hermione breathe hard. Mrs. Weasley's gaze is one of rage. Rage towards the one who did that to a little boy. "So I pulled out my own wand and cast a spell to knock him unconscious, I took Dray and Cissa and apparated them to Zephora's," Regulus stands up, putting physical distance between himself and everyone present. "And Zephora said it was best to seal Dray's power until it was inevitable, until he could defend himself."

"And Narcissa?" Hermione asks so quickly, I'm not sure how anyone understood her.

"Narcissa did not recover, Miss Granger," Regulus says sadly. “That Death Eater had not hit him with a spell to make her lose consciousness, he had hit her with an AK. So we sealed Dray's power with a ritual. We put moorings of black magic at its magic core and brought him into the Muggle world.”

"But, Narcissa's body was found in France," says Hermione.

"I lived in France," says Zephora. "My late house was in..."

"It makes sense, Hermione," Ron replies. "Rossé Cottage is in France. Yes, she died in Wales, but you can still apparate with a dead body," Ron is putting everything together and I smile. "There are ways to remove the residue of magic from a person's body, create a new one. It's difficult but not unknown for people whom are ancient enough."

"I cleaned it up." Zephora answers. “She was only found dead, with no trace of Dray, because to Death Eaters, Draco Black died that night in Wales. Do you know what happens if you throw an Aveda Kadabra at such a small human being? ” Zephora asks and I shake my head gently, because it is horrifying knowledge to have that information. "They become magic again. With no body to bury, magic consumes them because when a magical child is born… ”

"His whole body is magic," whispers Hermione, as her eyes widen.

Zephora nods and I feel sick.

"You were always ready for Dray to die when the time was right," I say darkly, looking at Regulus Black.

"No," he tells me, while taking a deep breath. “The seal could only be broken when the time was right, and I'm sure it's not yet because its magic pulse was as light as that of a fetus. However,” and he bites his lip. "When he met his soulmate the seal would break, trying to be magically worthy with his other half."

"But ..." And I look at Zephora.

"This is Harry Potter," Zephora tells me. "You are Dray's soulmate."

“Moody was not supposed to break the seal in such an abrupt way. It was supposed to be you. ” Regulus tells me raising his face and burning me with his gray orbs.

I've seen you in my dreams, Dray's voice echoes in my head.

"His eyes ..." I say in a whisper. "Dray is the one who has been protecting my mind for the past few months."

Zephora nods.

"Argenti are known for their soul-healing traits," she tell me.

"That's the reason why Voldemort want him," says Ron. "It makes sense. He doesn't need a wand to make magic. He protected Harry from Voldemort in his dreams, maybe now it is in an unconcious way, but still he can. Voldemort use a kind of Legilimency to put lies in Harry's mind, and latelt it hasn't work because Dray is in Harry mind. If you have a device that can make Occlumency, then I am pretty sure Voldemort may wants it, because the Ministry is not stopping at Veritaserum when they can get their hands on Death Eaters," Ron's voice cute deep in the silence of the room. "Voldemort is craving the power this kid has inside him."

"Dray can give him a sort of human body," Regulus says and I choke on my coffee.

"What?" and all the eyes are on Regulus Black.

"You said he is not a Necormancer," Hermione spit her words with a tinge of angryness in her voice.

Fucking shit.

"Is not Necromancy," Mister Weasley says. "Is that aberration of creating a new body making someone else bleed in the process, right?" he asks and Zephora nods. "It's dangerous and it's a crime."

Shit.

"Whatever his reasons are he needs the child alive," Shacklebolt intervene. "So, we keep him alive and safe. And we train him to aid us in this war."

"No one is going to train him to be a fucking assassin," I growl my words, my chest feeling utterly constricted at the mention of those words.

"Harry..." Kingsley try to say me.

"No," I hissed back. "You are gonna left him as he is. Sweet and caring, and full of love," I feel irrational but something inside me is screaming to protect my mate. "You can train him to heal, he have those. But no one is going to teach him how to spell an AK or any of the unforgivables."

"He is an asset in this..." Moody tells me.

My head spin so fast I can hear a few of my bones popping.

"He is a human being, not a fucking tool," my magic reach out of my body searching the house until it find Draco sleeping and I conjure him back to me. He appear in my arms, his eyes closed, sking glowing. "He is not gonna stay in here with all of you thinking he is a fucking tool to be use in this war, as if his feeling doesn't matter a fuck."

"Harry," Regulus look me in the eye and I see him nod softly.

"They did the same shit to me, Regulus," I tell him, holding Dray tightly. "They will destroy him until there's nothing left."

"There's not place safer then here," Kingsley tells me.

"Try again," I told him, closing my eyes and thinking about my next destination.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione witnesses Regulus' calmness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy with cookies and warm milk

OCTOBER 30th, 2002

HERMIONE

Harry disappeared a few seconds ago with Dray Black in his arms and I can see in Moody's eyes his desire to murder the first unfortunate person to cross his path. The silence that reigns in the room is so dense that I'm sure all of us can hear a pin dropping in the room.

"Alastor," Dumbledore's voice fills the room, as the Hogwarts headmaster rises to his feet. "I know you are angry about the decision that Harry, but…"

"That's not just any kid, Albus," Moody replies, his eye moving madly from side to side. “That boy has the part it takes to win this war. He cannot be considered as a human, because he is not! Even if any of you like it he is a weapon. One that Voldemort can use against us if he can find the brat."

I swallow audibly, as I get to my feet and try to get as far away from Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore as possible. What Mad Eye is saying is not a total lie. However, Harry is correct, Dray is not an object of mass destruction to be used in a war. He is human and his feeling should count, he shouldn't be rushed into a war field to be used as another wand.

As if his life is worth nothing.

"Harry Potter should be charged with kidnapping," Moody says aloud, tapping his cane on the floor of the room. "No one knows where he took the boy."

"You can't acuse Harry like that, Moody," Sirius jumps to defend Harry. "He is not a bad kid."

The tension in the room is palpable and I feel like it can be cut with a knife if someone pressed hard enough. I feel Ron's hand entwine with mine and gently squeeze, as his back begins to partially cover me from the wizards in the room.

"Actually, Lord Auror, no one can blame young Potter for such an action," says Zephora, standing up. “Dray is not the weapon that will win this war. Who will win this war will be the boy that you and your ministry left in the house of some No-Magical-Folks who abhor everything that is close to the title of special,” Zephora tells him in a venomous tone. She may not be able to kill with her eyes, but surely she can burry you with her words.

"Regulus!" Alastor Moody's yell makes me pull out my wand and I see Ron do the same. “He took your boy. Why aren't you angry?"

And Moody has his wand in his hand the next moment.

My gaze is fixed on Regulus Black and his always passive countenance. Always serene.

"Alastor," I see him stand up and ... Doesn't Regulus Black have a wand? "No one can accuse the Potter boy of such thing as kidnapping," he says in a serious tone. His straight and his bearing is perfect. “The Argenti have soul mates and once they bond they gain the same rights as an Hecatemus or a Vella. The bond between the two of them has already been created, although even if they have not yet consummated it, it is there. No one can accuse the Potter boy of such a thing because they are meant to be. There is nothing young Potter would want more at the moment than to get my son to safety and I do not intend to upset him. He's powerful and his bond with Dray is too new,” his voice barely a whisper amid Moody's screams. “To cross young Potter right now would be akin to waking up to something you don't know, and like Harry Potter, I also like my son just the way he is. Which is why I ask of you to forget the idea of turning my son into one of your sacrifices,” he says and takes out a wand out of nowhere.

Whatever he has thrown at Moody is followed by Albus Dumbledore's magic permeating the room. I close my eyes trying to visualize my next destination and I can't apparate.

Dumbledore put up a pocket against the apparitions.

"It was never our intention for any of you to find out in this way that Draco Black is alive," Zephora Zambroni's voice echoes through the room and I can feel the terror within me. "Or what he is." She is not someone you want to piss off. "Much less that the bond between young Potter and Dray forgging under such an aberrational situation." Zephora opens her eyes and I can see the white of her iris contrasting with the brown skin of her slender body.

The first baby blue ray is thrown and one after the other the people in the room begin to fall until only Ron and I are left standing. And yet Regulus, Albus, and Zephora seem to ponder what to do with us.

"Are they dead?" Ron asks in a whisper. "Did you kill my mum?" The grip on his wand tightens and I know he have a nasty curse at the tip of his tongue.

My fiance is ready to strike, maim and kill.

"We will not be able to ever look Dray in the eye if we ever kill good people," Regulus' words fall like a balm on us and I can feel myself relaxing a bit.

"You can trust them, Zephora," Albus tells him. “They are the other people who will, morally, help win this war. You can trust that they won't tell anyone or that they will endanger Dray porpousely."

"Not even under torture?" asks the dreadlocked woman. Her head snaps around to Dumbledore.

"She's an Unspeakable and young Weasley was assigned Dray's case," Dumbledore tells her, lowering his wand. "Besides, I don't think Harry wants to keep this secret away from them."

Regulus looks at me with eyes so knowing and yet so indecipherable. And I feel comforted just by looking into them.

"I think we should let young Potter decide if he wants them to know this or not," Regulus says, raising his wand. My wand flies into his hand and I feel betrayed.

"Don't worry Miss Hermione Granger," Zephora's voice brings me back from whatever Regulus Black has put me on. "You will have it as soon as you and young Weasley have taken an oath with me."

What?

"An unbreakable?" are the words that escape Ron.

Zephora nods approaching me and I see her turn abruptly. Regulus takes the opportunity to cast another enchantment and leave Ron without his wand. These are not conventional wizards. Dumbledore and Regulus Black are using enchantments without wordless, and still the force behind all of them can shake you. But, Regulus is al finesse and Albus is all sublety.

And Zephora Zambroni didn't even need a wand to knock out a couple of people in the room. Her words alone were enough. She can do wandless without sweating.

Zephora extends her hand and I take her wrist. Her hand closes around the same part on my body. Albus Dumbledore's wand rests on our hands and soft silver threads form around our hands.

"Do you swear Hermione Jean Granger to keep what Draco Black is as a secret?" Dumbledore's voice shakes the air.

I take a deep breath, the magic inside me urging me to answer.

"Yes, I swear," I say breathing deeply, my magic thrumming inside me.

"Do you swear to keep him safe while the war is on?" Dumbledore asks to the air again.

I swallow hardly.

"I swear," I say almost shaking. The unbreakable vow is taking it's toll on my magic.

The next minut she let go of my hands and extend it again to Ron.

How this woman can keep going?

Never matter that. Ron grips Zephora's wrist with his own. His blue eyes fixed on her and her old magic.

Old magic. Zephora Zambroni's magic is similar to the one that is always coatting the Room of Requirements. Breathing on its own somehow, warm and solid at the same time. But, I am pretty sure this woman is capable of killing without giving the act a second guess. But, then again, all the founders could do the same. All of us can chose to join Voldemort and kill and hurt and maim.

"But, here we are," Regulus tells me. "Trying to win a war that was never started by us, nevermind the things we believe in."

I step closer to him.

"But, didn't you believe in the purity of the blood?" I ask him, looking him in the eye.

Regulus' gaze don't waver.

"People listen what they want to. They twisted your words until they are have just a carnal and evil meaning," he tells me. "Dray was raised as a pureblood, with all our costums. Holding the door open for a lady to pass, saying thank you and your welcome, like any other well groomed kid," he tells me. His eyes on Ron. "Different from your boyfriend, who never think twice about what would you like the most. I raised Dray to be a gentleman, like any other pureblood. To dress as a prince whenever the ocassion needs him to. Keeping foul words out of his vocabulary. Telling him he can be vulnerable, but just with the people he considers family."

"But, he is so sweet. And Voldemort followers... They are evil." I tell him at the brink of tearing my hair with my hands.

"Because, their parents were wounded beyond repair. The Dark Lord was wounded beyond repair, Miss Granger," he glance at me. "My parents hurt me and Sirius, but my brother met kindness in Fleammont Potter, James' dad. And when I met Zephora she extend her warm arm towards me. And even there, I thought it wasn't enough. I wanted to be a Death Eater to show my parents what they made of me, how badly they scared me, how wounded I was. Their nonsensical rules, the little affection they will show towards their own children, they lack of comprehension and love, the lack of sincerity, the great amount of coldness they show us... All of that shaped my generation, Miss Granger. But, coldness and evil weren't a common pureblood trait back in the past and Fleammont Potter was the living prove of it, neither was Severus Snape," he whisper. "And when Dray was born I decided I had to be better if I ever wanted for this kid to see me all his life, like the first he saw me. His blue eyes was seeing me like I was Merlin himself, just because I was singing to him. For him I wasn't damaged or hurting. For him I was just the best person in the world, and I wanted to be that... For him. I still want, for him."

And my heart breaks a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will make me feel better if you left comments more then kuddos. I have been feeling down lately and I think is due to the ton of responsabilities I have on my shoulders. I should be enjoying college, but I am struggling a lot with my health and... Is not easy. 
> 
> So, if you let me know how are you all doing, I will be glad to read you and write a response. Comments makes my day better.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again. Before going to bed i wanted to post this chapter, because I am feeling better. 
> 
> Enjoy with hot dogs and soda. 
> 
> XOXO

OCTOBER 31st, 2002

HARRY

Something tickles my neck and I hug the pillow between my arms a bit more. After what happened yesterday with the members of the Order, the only thing I can think of is that their thinking is wrong and at the same time, I feel happy. Happy that Dumbledore is considering more than the greater good.

Or maybe, Dumbledore knows more than any of us will ever know?

It's hard to tell, especially when the Headmaster is involved in anything related to the war. I know from Professor McGonagall that there is a prophecy that specifically talks about Voldemort and me, and I also know that the same prophecy was lost. Around May of last year, the Unspeakables were furious because someone broke into the department of mysteries and took it away.

The bulge between my arms moves and the tickling sensation returns. I open my eyes and look at Dray. His head rests on my chest and his hair tickles my neck.

"Tempus," I whisper, taking my wand in my hands. "Damn."

In half an hour I must be with the Aurors.

I move carefully, trying not to wake the person who rests peacefully next to me. Once I managed to get Dray's head off my chest and onto the bed, I watched him settle better between the sheets and pillows, and helplessly, a smile crept onto my lips.

"I love you," I whisper in his ear and I thank Merlin that Dray is fast asleep.

Dray woke up last night, briefly to ask me for water, and returned to his sleepy state. After a few minutes of communicating this to Zephora Zambroni, her Patronus appeared in my kitchen, telling me not to worry. It would take Dray's body at least forty-eight hours to fully accustom himself to the magic within him.

Coming out of my thoughts, I rush to get ready before the Robards' Patronus appears and floods the room with my superior's shouting voice, and manages to make the nightmare, of Dray awaken once more, a reality. I want him rested and healthy.

Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω

"Harry," Hermione's whisper makes me whirl around and point my wand at her.

"Fuck, ‘Mione," I say, loosening my grip on my wand. I watch her close the door to my office and realize that Ron is also in the room. "What's going on?"

Ron waves his wand from side to side muttering softly and I feel the magic embrace the entire room.

"Have you been able to speak to Dumbledore?" Hermione asks me, coming up next to Ron.

I shake my head gently.

"I wasn't bothered by Robards yesterday either," I tell them, sitting down on my desk. "Which is actually pretty weird, considering he knows who Dray is…" He swallowed audibly. "Not to mention that he knows what he is."

Hermione twirls her wand between her fingers and her eyes scan the ceiling of the room. Beside her, Ron folds his arms and his lips tighten into a firm line.

"What?" I ask them, knowing that they are keeping something. And even though I know Ron is ready to spew any information, he won't until Hermione agrees.

"Harry ..." I hear her say, straightening up.

"Dumbledore obliviated Robards," Ron blurts out like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"He what?" and I can't believe what I hear. "You mean Robards doesn't remember what happened yesterday?"

Ron nods softly.

"Absolutely nothing," he tells me in a serious tone, letting his breath scape through his mouth.

"It's not just Robards, Harry," Hermione whispers. “None of the Weasleys that were there or Kingsley. None of those present yesterday or the entire week-end, except for the two of us, Dumbledore, Zephora Zambroni and Regulus Black, know what Dray is…” and I see her shift her gaze to the sky. "Or what he is."

"That means Robards will have our asses today because we still haven't found Draco Black according to Robards," I tell them with a deep sigh.

"What you said before kidnapping Dray is true, Harry," Hermione tells me. “Yesterday Regulus Black explained a thing or two to me. For example, that Death Eaters have a legitimate reason to be so malevolent,” 'Mione tells me and her lips tighten in disgust. "And actually, he's right. People are not born good or bad, Harry. Society makes them good or bad... Or at least, so it is with most Muggles." Her voice is a whisper. “In the case of the Death Eaters, their families hurt them too much and that hurt shaped them all into this hungry for destruction monsters. Which leads me to wonder: What happened to Voldemort to create a society of evil people to hurt all the living creatures?"

I take a deep breath. This is making my head spin so fast I am starting to think I am in a wheel.

"I don't know for sure," I whisper remembering the memories that Dumbledore once showed me. "Tom Riddle."

"Who's that?" Ron asks me with a frown.

"That's what Voldemort was called when he was a kid," I reply. "Tom Riddle."

"Was he a pure-blood?" Hermione asks me.

"Riddle is not a pure-blood surname," Ron tells him after a moment. “The wizarding world is not that big here in Britain. It's like Zephora said, families here don't mix well with other creatures, which makes us a very small society. Compared to the magical population in America, we are an almost extinct group. To some extent all wizards in the UK are related."

Ewwwk. Gross.

"It's kind of like… incest?" I ask Ron.

He nods.

"Even you, Harry, you had incestuous ancestors," he tells me with a mocking smile on his face.

"My mother was a Muggleborn," I tell him in a serious tone. "Just like 'Mione. "

Ron rolls his eyes and Hermione accompanies him.

"No one disputes that to you, Harry," Hermione tells me in a serious voice. "But, Muggleborns aren't born every year," she tells me in a serious voice. “More purebloods and halfbloods are born than Muggleborns. And although many people here feel sorry and dirty about blood purity, the truth is that most of the ancient families are mixed with some magical creature, which makes them pureblood and not halfblood."

Ah?

"But, Hagrid ..." I tell her in a serious tone.

"Hagrid is different, Harry," Hermione tells me in a serious tone. “He is a half giant. Giants are not magical creature or wizards. They are just another form of humans with a little low intellect when it comes to being in the city, but very intelligent left in their natural habitat, like any other living creature. "

"What does this have to do with Voldemort?" asked them.

"So, we need to know what happened to Voldemort," Ron tells me, guiding the conversation to the right path again. "And we need that prophecy that disappeared a few years ago." He says in a serious voice. All-business.

"We don't know who took it," I say in a serious voice.

"Whoever took it, Harry," Hermione tells me in a serious voice. "Wanted one thing, to help you or to help Voldemort." Hermione is talking so fast that it's hard for me to follow her. It is as if she thinks faster than her mouth can move. “That leaves very few people. Dumbledore and the Order want you to win this war, so there is peace in Wizarding Britain." She says pacing the room. “Voldemort wants to win this war, to do what Regulus Black said. To get even with all those who hurt him. In other words, the number of people who could have stolen the Prophecy is small."

Ron looks at her and I know I have the same look on my face: Processing.

"That's not a small group of people, Hermione," Ron tells her softly. “The Order alone has about two hundred members and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned has perhaps the same number. Those are about four hundred people. "

"Yes, but the people Dumbledore trusts are few," Hermione tells him, waving her arms wildly. "McGonagall and Sirius. Those are the people Dumbledore trusts."

"Yaxley and Rowle are in Voldemort's inner circle," I tell her. "Now that you say it, Rowle was there." I tell them, lost in a memory.

"Where?" Ron asks me.

“The morning I took Dray to Grimmauld. I took us there because Rowle was at Lauren’s. And he was ready, a curse on the tip of his tongue. I'm sure of that."

"But when you arrived you weren't hurt," Hermione tells me in a serious tone.

“Yeah, but Dray was ahead of me, practically pulling me into to walk faster towards the gardens. Rowle saw him. He saw Dray and was distracted…” I tell Hermione and close my eyes, looking into my own memory. "It was weird."

Because, now in the calm of this room, knowing that Ron and Hermione have my back, I can afford to analyze my memories carefully.

"Strange, how?" Hermione asks me.

Rowle's face lingers in my mind, like it's a Muggle portrait photograph, and I can stare straight into his soul.

“Like, if he had recognized Dray. It was only a few second,” I let them know, still with my eyes closed and looking at Rowle inside my head. "As if he had seen Dray before."

I open my eyes and look at my two best friends.

"This is not right," Hermione tells me. "We need to tell Kingsley that we found Draco Black."

"Hermione ..." I stand up, ready to argue with my best friend.

“Harry, if Rowle recognized Dray, even for a brief second, what guarantees us that Rowle doesn't know why he was so shocked when he saw him? We don't know who his father is. Remember, Harry, Regulus said Dray's father was a Death Eater. " She tells me in a serious tone, her eyes alight. “For all we know, in these moments, Voldemort may have already made the connection between Dray and any of his stupid toys. Especially if Rowle met Dray's father in person."

Fuck.


	17. Harry: November 1st, 2002

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry about posting this late, but my router passed to a best life a few days ago and... Well, I had to wait until the company come with a new one.

NOVEMBER 1st, 2002

HARRY

I pick up the copy of the Evening Prophet and am immediately surprised to read the headline. Fenrir Grayback's image tops the front page, as big red letters bleed into the page.

Grayback escapes from Azkaban lastnight.

With a quick step, I leave the Auror floor, while I get into the lift of the Ministry, almost losing a finger in the attempt. However, this is imperative. Kingsley needs to know the truth, now.

"Auror Potter," I was Kingsley's secretary, as I made my way to the door. "You need an appointment to speak with the Minister for Magic, Auror Potter."

I stop and look at her over my shoulder, as my hand turns the doorknob and I walk into Kingsley's office. Hermione and Ron will join me in a few seconds, after ensuring that Dray is still where he said he will be today. Safe and sound.

And what I see makes me turn my face away from Kingsley instantly.

"Minister," I tell him, folding my hands behind my back and looking at a magical portrait that shows a pair of Bonitas in a hawthorn tree. “If you'll just give me a moment, there is something myself, the Auror Weasley and the Unspeakable Granger would like to discuss with you,” I say, still looking as the two birds with rainbow plumage for their coat flutter around the branches of the tree.

"Ha-Harry," I hear him say and I can detect embarrassment in his voice.

Excellent. The Minister for Magic should not be making out in his office with a woman who is not his wife. Especially not during business hours.

"I assure you this is urgent, Minister," I tell him, turning around and looking at him seriously.

The black-haired woman who was just moments ago on his lap stands up and I see a blush cover her cheeks.

"I'll see you later, Minister," she says, giving Kingsley a tight smile. "Auror Potter," she says softly, as she begins to walk towards the door.

I don't even say a greeting back and pause to stare at Kingsley.

"You disappoint me, Kingsley," I say sadly, looking back at the Bonitas who continue to dance in the magic painting.

"My wife has been dead for years, Harry," he tells me harshly. "I think it is time for me to seek my own happiness, even if that makes you uncomfortable."

I look at him and give him a smile.

"That's not what bothers me," I tell him calmly, as I think of Dray. "This is your job and I'm sure I'm not the first to walk through that door and see you with her," I tell him, looking him straight in the eye. "You are on the opposite side of Voldemort in this war and, if you really loved her, you would be careful about who you let see her, especially in this place where important things tend to get lost ... Or perish, as the case may be."

Suddenly, Hermione and Ron enter the room and I notice the strangest thing in the world. And I'm sure they both know that I've already noticed something very strange. However, I keep my mouth shut as Ron and Hermione scatter into the room and begin casting spells around the room.

"Muffliato," I hear Ron's short whisper, as his wand moves from place to place.

"Entitem Veliaris," Hermione whispers and I know that enchantment is Unspeakable level III. It is within the same thing that Aurors are taught when we go on extremely dangerous missions. "Aurum Protego."

What?

Once the two of them are satisfied with their work, they stand next to me and in a wave of Kingsley's hand, the table expands and two new chairs appear out of nowhere.

"To what do I owe the visit of the three of you?" he asks, as if it's the strangest thing to see the three of us together in his office.

Although, maybe it is.

"Minister, we have information on Draco Black," Hermione tells him in a serious tone. "But, first we want to know what the Ministry will do with him once we let you know of his whereabouts."

“Someone is missing from your group,” says Kingsley, clearly recalling that less than a month ago, four of us were given this assignment.

"Blaise is indisposed today," Hermione tells him. "Part of his arm fell off while trying to apparating after a very disturbing event."

What the hell was Zabini doing to end up without a part of his arm? Unspeakables are not this tacky.

"Will Unspeakable Zabini be okay?" Kingsley asks.

Hermione nods softly.

"He just appeared without his hand, which appeared seconds later by his side," Hermione tells her. “However, the healers said that the situation Blaise was in caused an instability at his core. He will be good as new in a couple of days. Once his hand is correctly attached to his arm."

"Where was Zabini?" Kingsley asks.

"As Minister you shall know, Blaise Zabini was assigned a couple of days ago to find out the reason why there was a time-space disturbance," Hermione tells him in a serious voice. "Blaise found the reason for that disturbance yesterday night," her brown eyes serious. “Yaxley is no longer in Azkaban. Someone freed him last night. We think the disturbance that was caused exactly fifteen days ago, was a prepparing measure to ensure the freedom of the Death Eaters."

I watch Kingsley lose color and breathe deeply, his eyes roaming Hermione's face.

"Is the Auror department taking care of that already?" he asks, looking at Ron seriously.

Ron nods softly, without saying a word. His blue eyes on Kingsley.

I see Kingsley conjuring his patronus.

"Jessica, bring three cups of coffee and a cup of tea," he tells to his own Patronus. "Let no one interrupt us until further notice."

And so, Kingsley's panther disappears from everyone's sight, leaving the environment a little calmer.

"Auror Weasley, what did you come to say?" he says, waving his hand gently. "I hope this day doesn't get worse." He whispers, massaging his forehead.

Ron smiles softly at him.

"I'm sorry Minister, but I can't do anything to make your dream come true," he says in a serious tone. “As you know, last night some prisoners escaped from Azkaban. Not only do we have information that Yaxley left Azkaban, but others also managed to escape last night with him,” Ron tells him in a serious tone.

"Who?" Kingsley asks, his hands shaking slightly.

"Fenrir Grayback, Victor Goldman, Claire Warrington..." Ron whispers firmly, trying not to break the atmosphere of the room. "And Bellatrix Lestrange."

So Bellatrix also escaped last night.

"Why hasn't Robards informed me of this?" whispers Kingsley.

"Head Auror Robards is in Azkaban, sir," I tell him in a serious tone. "Collecting the corpses Voldemort left us," I spit the name in disgust and feel physically ill.

"Does anyone know something about the Black boy?" Kingsley asks. "Something useful."

Ron and Hermione look at me, waiting for me to say yes.

"Is Kingsley," I tell her, swallowing my own disgust. This is not something I wish to share with anyone, however, it is the only alternative I have to keep Dray safe now that Bellatrix is out of Azkaban. And if there is something that Bellatrix Lestrange is knowing for is her ambitiousness and the way she employs, pressing the right buttons to extract for information.

I am sure that she is capable of finding out who her missing nephew is and why Voldemort yearns to have him in his terrorist group as soon as possible.

"I hear you, Auror Potter," he tells me in a serious tone.

"Dray Black is alive," I tell him in a serious tone.

Something moves behind us and a couple of things fall to the ground out of nowhere. My gaze flies to Hermione and to Ron, as I watch them throw me looks and smiles of apology and… Guilt.

Hermione feels guilty.

"Who is there?" Kingsley asks pulling out her wand. "Show yourself."

I get up and walk towards the noise and the slight sound that the fabric makes when a person is moving. I reach out my hand feeling the slight magical pulse in front of me and once my fingers close on the fabric, I pulled it.

A Dray with hair a little disheveled and eyes as bright as ever smiles at me. I take a deep breath and pull him into my arms, squeezing him tight, keeping him safe. I place a kiss on the crown of his head, noticing that the white fades into a whirlwind of pale colors.

"Who is he?" Kingsley asks. I hear him move around the room until his hand falls on my shoulder and I slowly release Dray.

"This is Dray Black, Kingsley," I tell him in a serious tone. "The son of Narcissa Black."

Kingsley pales considerably and his eyes focus on Dray.

The blond, who now wears a pale rainbow through her hair, extends her hand to the man.

"I'm Dray," he tells him as if it were an everyday thing, a sincere smile painting his pink lips, as a slight blush settles on his cheeks.

Kingsley opens his mouth and his hand is extends toward the blond's face, who stays still, while the huge dark hand caresses his delicate cheek. At that moment, I see Kingsley's eyes fill with tears and one of them runs away.

"You are just like Cissy," he says in a whisper. "One of the most beautiful and powerful witches I have ever met." He tells him, Dray smiles at him full force. "Dra ..." However, he is unable to say the blond's full name. "You are alive," he says softly. "Cissy's legacy has not died."

"What legacy do you mean, Minister?" the question escapes ‘Mione's lips before I can ask it.

Kingsley takes his hand off Dray's cheek slowly. His eyes still on Dray's face.

"May I, child?" Kingsley asks softly.

Dray looks at him and a chill runs through my body. The last time a wizard used magic on Dray the outcome was disastrous and I'm not quite sure I can bring my beautiful angel back from the dead a second time. At least not without the help of Zephora Zambroni.

"Yes," Dray says, taking a step forward.

“It won't hurt and it won't leave a mark on you either,” whispers Kingsley. "I just need to see your palm," and Dray does exactly what Kingsley has told him to do. The Minister's wand moves over the blond's meety palm and I immediately grip my wand, swearing that if something happens to the little blond, blood will flow through the corridors of the Ministry.

Dray chuckles softly, the sound coming from his stomach.

“It tickles,” he tells the Minister, who just smiles at him. A portrait of Narcissa Black appears from thin air. However, unlike the Magic Portraits, this one remains motionless.

I notice the movement of Kingsley's wand and how it levitates the thread of blood away from Dray's pale skin, toward the portrait.

"Come back from the darkness, Cissy," Kinsgley says, dripping Dray's blood onto the painting. The reddish liquid glows silver for a few seconds and then the canvas sucks it up until it is as good as new.

Kingsley smiles as the eyes of the Narcissa Black's painting open up for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kuddos are appreciated. You make me a happy writter whenever you left your comments for me to read. 
> 
> XOXO


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry takes Dray to his teenage home! 
> 
> Enjoy with hot chocolate and cookies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in time because... I am not gonna have faith in my timetable anymore jajaja. Guys, this is hard I have seven subject at College and a few concerts to perform in and I am not gonna have faith in my timetable, I will just go ahead of it, so I can deliver chapter and essays and what-not in time. 
> 
> Wish me luck!
> 
> Enjoy with sandwiches (they are so yummy with butter and jam and cheese) and milk!

NOVEMBER 4th, 2002

HARRY

"So," Draco tells me with a happy smile on his face, the cello's black bag on his back, keeping him company for most of the time I've been around Dray. "Where are we going today?"

His hand intertwines with mine and I lower my face a little to see his gray eyes shining with joy, a few spects borrowed from the deepest part of the ocean are dancing in his irises. The smile that is painted on his lips widens exponentially.

"Doesn't your face ever hurt from smiling so much?" I ask him, leaving a kiss on his temple.

Dray hits me with his delicate fist that lacks strength and I laugh at how stupid the situation is.

"Well, Mr. Potter," he tells me seriously. "It's better to have a couple of wrinkles from laughing too much than to have a huge wrinkle on your forehead and look ogre-like, simply because you can't stop frowning at people," he tells me and lifts his face. His eyes shinning with mischief.

That way he looks like a little prince about to walk into his kingdom.

"I want to take you to a place that is special to me," I tell him, putting seriousness in my voice. "I can tell you it was my home until I was seventeen," I tell Dray, "Lead the way, then, Sir Harry," he tells me as I lead us down an alley where I know we can disapparate without anyone knowing.

Without breaking the Statue of Secrecy.

"Can I already have an excuse to hug you?" Dray asks me, his ears turning pink.

I smile at the boy next to me and pulls him to my side. At that moment I notice that Dray is not as short as I thought, only half a head smaller than me. However, he have a more delicate body and his smell... His smell is fucking intoxicating.

I hold him against me and inhale deeply. The effect is immediate, and I am really happy to feel how all the stress of the day vanishes from my body and the smell of the dead that we find today in Diagon Alley, completely disappears from my nostrils.

Not even because I stopped at home, I was able to remove the smell of death, and the feeling that accompanies that knowledge, from my nose. However, in the middle of this deserted alley, where I am not Harry Potter: the boy who lived, everything disappears for a few seconds, while the cold of Dray's body seeps through my body and makes me feel at peace.

Less suffocated, less unstable.

"Ready?" I ask him, whispering the words in his ear and I feel him shiver in my arms.

His head nods gently against my neck and I delight in knowing that Dray trusts me enough to accept me as a wizard and even let me take him to a place that is totally unknown to him. Using magic.

I think of my destiny, imagining the high gates and the rock walls that can be seen in the distance. The forest in the light of six in the afternoon, bathed in pink and a bit of purple light, and a soft touch of gold. The little fairies that dance around all the flowers whose names I can't remember and the animals that Haggrid loves so much.

My magic engulfs us both and from one moment to the next, we are gently spat on outside of Hogwarts. However, it's rare that my magic is so controlled. Hermione usually says that my magic is like a whirlpool out of control.

I see Dray open his eyes and loosen his hands, to loosen the fabrics of my jacket. His eyes are fixed on the tall doors that will open at any moment and then, McGonagall appears on the other side. Her gaze fixed on both of us, while looking with something that can be kindness... But, who knows.

"I hope you decide to come in soon," she looks at us. "Both of you," she tells me in a firm whisper. “Night will approach soon and this fall is more violent than other years. I hope you still remember the halls of your old school, Mr. Potter,” she tells me in a serious tone. “Albus expects you for dinner at seven. And please, Potter...” she tells me with serious eyes.

"Don't be late," I complete the sentence with a soft nod. "I understand, professor." I remember Dray is standing next to me when I stopped feeling like a kid in the presence of Minerva McGonagall. "This is Dray," I tell the professor formally. "Dray, this is Professor McGonagall. She teaches a really special class, here at Hogwarts."

McGonagall looks up at him and a smile comes to her lips.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she tells Dray softly.

“Nice to meet you,” Dray holds out his hand and McGonagall gently shakes it.

"I hope you find the Castle as fascinating as most of the young people who have passed through here," McGonagall tells him, extracting her hand. "Don't be late, Potter." She tells me again with an estern look.

I nod one last time, as I watch her walk away and Dray's giggle brings me back to reality.

"Were you late everywhere you went?" he asks me, while trying to hold his laughter in his mouth.

I roll my eyes as I try not to join Dray in his laugh.

"No, she only says it because I was late for her class... Once," I tell him casually. “In fifth year, after falling asleep. In my defense, I didn't know that Firewhiskey was being served as a common beverage in my first high school party I ever attended at the beginning of that year. I ended up with a bad hangover and a headache, on a Monday."

Dray looks at me, his mouth forming an O in amazement and somehow manages to turn that gesture into another mischievous laugh. And in that moment, I think he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Even if this castle harbors horrible memories for me, it feels different to walk through this path next to someone so radiant, so powerful and yet, so sweet and innocent.

"What is Firewhiskey?" he asks me.

"Just a magical high in alcohol beverage," I tell him. "And yes, it was against the rules."

I take his hand in mine and lead him to the main entrance, the one that adjoins the corridor that leads to the Great Hall.

"Have you never been late for any place?" I ask him fondly.

Dray looks at me, his eyes flickering rapidly in concentration.

"Once," he tells me, trying to contain his laughter. "I remember there were a few minutes to go until the premiere of El Toro or The Bull with the children orchestra in France, I was cello first and I had to play the cello solo," he laughs softly and squeezes my hand. “And I arrived when they were tuning. It was a very big shame, because being a cello first guarantees you a place in front of the stage. The director looked at me so seriously, I thought I would cry. However, I think he let it pass because I was the youngest member of the Orchestra. At that time I was four years old, and after that, I throw such a big tantrum that my dad took the initiative to assume that all my concerts and recitals were half an hour earlier than the program said, jus to be on time,” his eyes darted. crystallize and I know that Dray is in a very distant moment. “It was a nice day, playing for the president. But, really, I have the best dad in the world. I can't imagine anyone else running around with a two and a half years old kid, paying for private tutors, entrusting his child to a stranger, just so said child can fulfill his dream."

I pull Dray towards me and together we head out onto the Quidditch pitch. Once we arrive, the Hufflepuff team is out on the field doing laps.

"I am glad to know about that, Dray," I tell him and he kiss my cheek softly. My heart flutters inside my chest, while I try to ignore the fact that Bellatrix Lestrange is lurking somewhere in London.

"This Dray, it's the sport of witches and wizards," I say softly. "And, I think there is no witch or wizard who has not played it in their entire life," I tell him softly. "Except for my best friend, Hermione. Hermione is only passionate about books,” I wince in understanding and disgust at the same time. "She is a bookworm, Ron say."

And Dray hits me again, this time on the head.

"She is the warm girl you send to my classes the other day, right?" a blush covering his cheeks.

"Yup," I pause looking at him and I swallow the lump in my throat. Regulus still have to tell him the thruth, but first we have to find out what Dray's powers really are and how being an Argentum can affect Dray's personality. This magic inside him is still dormant, that's the reason we are here, just to see if this place can awake it.

"There is nothing wrong with being a know-it-all," he tells me in a serious tone.

"Are you a know-it-all?" I ask him, feeling the desire to play building up in my chest.

"Nooo," he tells me in a serious tone, looking straight ahead. "And what is this about?" he asks me, putting his feet covered by black boots on the grass.

“Well, this is Quidditch. Each team has seven players: Three chasers, two beaters, one keeper and one seeker,” I explain, as the team finishes circling the field. "The objective is to put that red ball, which is called Quaffle, in one of the three rings you see there," I tell him, pointing to those rings. “However, there are two other chocolate balls over there, they are called Bludgers and they are the beaters' balls. They hit it to make others players lose their course and / or drop the Quaffle,” I tell him smiling. "And then there's the Snitch, which hasn't been released yet, and that's the seeker's ball." I smile. "The Snitch is worth 150 points."

Dray looks at me and I know he's about to say something strange.

"What an unfair stupidity," he tells me in a seriously. "What happened to teamwork?" he voice demanding. However, his eyes never leave the field.

"Well, uh..." I don't know what to say to him, which is why I scratch the back of my neck. "Maybe it's worth as much because the Snitch is going so fast," however, the latter sounds more like a question than a statement. "As fast as the subway."

Dray laughs at me and I watch him run towards the center of the field, his cello bag bouncing with him. He lift his face to see how all the players flit around the field at great speed, throwing balls between them and his eyes look at everything at once.  
At one point one of the players fly past him so fast that I only see a blurr moving. And Dray laughs like a maniac.

Fuck. I broke him. Regulus Black is gonna kill me.

I rush up to him and extract him from the Quidditch pitch before any of the guys manage to run him over successfully, and that's going to ensure Voldemort has competition, because I'm completely sure Regulus Black is not a man you can mess with and get out of it alive. Literally, he has only been protecting Dray for years, and he has done so successfully. My mother protected me once, a good witcht just like my own dad, but definitely not the best when it came to dueling.

However, Regulus Black… I'm sure he has more blood on his hands than any Veteran Auror. As 'Mione told me: He will do whatever it takes to ensure Dray safety.

"Come on, I want to show you something else," I tell him, as I pull him into the Hogwarts trophy room. "Here it is," I tell him, pushing open the door and making room for the blonde to enter. “This is the room where every Hogwarts championship is kept. Medals and trophies alike. In that corner is Quidditch, and in that other the dueling club,” I tell Dray, as we walk there. "There are other clubs too, like Exploding Snap," but Dray's first stop is at the Quidditch corner. A huge album floats in front of him.

"Name," the enchanted book tells him and Dray takes a step back. His gaze is one of horror.

"It talks," he whispers to me and I try hard not to laugh, because I was once on his shoes.

"Yes, love. It talks," I raise my wand. "Regulus Black," I say to the enchanted book and the pages begin to turn quickly. "Look," I tell Dray, as the book settles down and there it is, Regulus Black holding the trophy in a Slytherin uniform.

"Did my dad play for the green team?" he asks me in a serious tone. "And why does he always tell me that green is a color that he doesn't like, if he spent a whole year, or maybe more dressed in green?" his arms are crossed in front of his arms and his eyes look at the photograph as if he could set it on fire with just that thought, which is why I search for something to say quickly.

Dray is an Argentum and I wouldn't be surprised if he could set that album on fire just because he wanted to.

"That's not completely the thruth, love," I say softly. “It is the color of his house. The family that Hogwarts gives you when you first attend here. No one asks you if you like the color, they just give it to you,” I tell him with a shrug. "Just as nobody asks you if you want to have a baby sister, they just give you one and that's it."

"How inconsiderate," Dray says indignantly, gently shaking his head. His rainbow-like-hair fluttering around his head. "But it's not different from what I have to do back in High School," he nods and a new smile blooms on his lips. "And you, what color used your borrowed family?"

If only he knows the Weaslyes are my borrowed family and all of them have red hair. I laugh.

"Harry Potter," I say to the book and its pages turn almost to the end. There, a 17-year-old Harry appears in the Gryffindor uniform for Quidditch. "In Gryffindor," I tell him softly. "The Red team."

“Youngest seeker in the last decade,” Dray reads quietly, like we're in a library. "So you're like Hermione," he says looking at me with a mocking smile on his face. “Mr. Quidditch genius. And you dare to call her a know-it-all, when you're cut with the same scissors."

I try to say something in my defense, but just when I find something to say, Dray is already on the other side of the room. I follow him and a new book is already in front of him, its pages in a specific place and Dray's fingers are reaching for the image.

There is a photograph of a girl with silver blonde hair like Dray's, with a couple of black locks in every temple. A slight smile of superiority is painted on her face, as she holds in her hand a small trophy that has two wands on it. She is wearing a back dressing gown, which is weird.

The inscription reads: Narcissa Black. First place. Intercollegiate Magic Dueling Tournament. Beauxbatons, 1769.

"Mom," he whispers as he strokes the photo with his fingertips.

Little Narcissa moves and Dray looks at her with something that makes my soul ache. And I know it's the same thing that happens to me every time I see a photograph of my parents.

Dumbledore's Patronus surprises me and from him comes Albus's voice.

"Dinner in ten minutes Harry," says Albus Dumbledore's voice calmly.

"Dray," I whisper, putting my hand on his shoulder and pulling him out of his reverie. “We have to go to Dumbledore. There is one last thing you have to see."

Dray nods, his eyes still on the photograph of Narcissa Black.

"See you later, Mom," he says as the book closes and settles back in front of the trophies, one of which was won by Narcissa years ago, if not more. "Guide me then, Monsiur Potter," he tells me fluently, however, there is nothing fake when he says Monsieur.

I link my hand with Dray's and together we walk through the silent, but huge corridors of Hogwarts, dinner for the students started half an hour ago, and although there are still a few students in the corridor, there are not many. If one or two see us marching to Dumbledore's office and with Dray wearing a red jacket and with me by his side, I'm sure it will only be a matter of minutes until all of Hogwarts has the wrong notion of why we are here.

"Liquorice Wand," I say aloud, as the gargoyle turns and a ladder appears. "Come on," I tell Dray, making room for him to pass first and following him with a confident stride.

In a matter of seconds we are in front of the headmaster.

"Harry, Dray," he greets us, as he sits down at a six-seat table. Someone else will join us tonight. "Did you like Hogwarts, Little Dragon?" Dumbledore asks and Dray just nods.

"Dad wasn't lying when he said you worked in 'Controling hysterical crowds,'" Dray tells him, as he walks around the room, his eyes staring at everything.

I laugh because there is no doubt that Hogwarts students can be that and even more. I sit across from Albus.

"Who else will join us?" I ask him in a serious whisper.

"Minerva and Severus," he says softly.

"Snape works for Voldemort," I tell him in a murderous whisper.

"He needs to know about this," he tells me in a serious tone.

"I swear to you, if something happens to Dray because Voldemort was able to extract something from Snape I will kill you with my bare hands, all three of you," I say in a venomous hiss.

Albus just looks at me and nods softly, a smile forming on his face.

"A very curious mind," he heard the voice of the sorting hat and turned my face to see Dray with the ancient hat on his head. "However, I can see your bravery and the love you have for people who show you sincerity," the hat seems to be thinking. "What's your name, little one?"

Dray keeps looking up at his head, as if that might show respect to the hat in some way.

"Dray. Dray Black,” he says still standing.

"Ah, a Black," says the hat. "Not many of them has been here in decades," says the hat happily. “I can see your loyalty. However, Dray is not your first name and Black is not your last."

Dray looks confused.

"My name is Draco," he tells to the Sorting Hat in a whisper that I almost can't hear. "Black. My dad's name is Regulus and my mom's name is Narcissa."

The hat laughs.

"The son of a Slytherin, raised by a Slytherin," he tells Dray amusedly. "I'm going to be honest with you Dray Black," and I pay full attention to this moment. “I haven't talked to a little wizard like you in a long time, having to really stop to think and talk,” he says thoughtfully. “I only use my voice this long to sing the Hogwarts song. Do you know what it means?"

Dray keeps trying to look at the hat above his head.

"That you need more friends?" he says sincerely. Curiosity distilling from each word.

The hat laughs again, heartfully.

"No, child. That means you are as old as the magic that was put into the first walls of this Castle," I choke on my own breath. This wasn't so supossed to happen. This is not the way I would like for Dray to know about his heritage. "What house will I put you in, Draco Black? " asks the hat still moving, what I think, is his mouth.

My heart stops beating.

"In one that doesn't have an aberrational color," the blonde replied in a serious tone. "Not all colors go well with my skin tone, do you know?"

"Very well," says the hat, and I can hear joy in its voice. "Ready, Mr. Black?"

"Ready, Mr. Hat," the blond replied happily.

And the next words from the Sorting Hat make my head spin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is for tonight. Enjoy, my darling, I am gonna make some supper. 
> 
> XOXO


	19. Draco: November 6th, 2002

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a day late, but work is killing me! Ajajaja sorry guys. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this with cheese balls, crackers and hot chocolate. 
> 
> Love you all.

NOVEMBER 6th, 2002

DRACO

"I can't believe the hat put me in the yellow house," I tell Harry. "Yellow is not a color that suits me, Harry."

Over my shoulder I see Harry smiling at me, as I play with the glass of water on the table. A smile is crushed against his lips, as he struggles not to laugh.

Good.

"Hufflepuff is not a bad house," he tells me, trying to pacify me.

"I'm not interested in the house, whatever that is," I tell him in a serious tone. "It's just ... Have you ever seen someone as pale as me wear something as pale as yellow?" I say, gesturing wildly. "This is a fight against my fashion sense, which let me tell you Mr. Harry, it's amazing," I lift my chin and look down at him, but all I do is make Harry lose all semblance of sanity and start laughing.

The patrons who meet us at The Old Head Queen’s look at us both. I press my lips together to keep from smiling at Harry.

"It's not funny, Harry," I tell him with a pout. "What Mr. Sorting Hat did was an attack on my sense of fashion, therefore it was an attack on my dignity." I cross my arms.

"What was an attack on your dignity, Darling?" Magdy asks me, the same woman who looked after me in the afternoons after I came home from school.

"Harry here, he says yellow looks good on me," I reply, my nose wrinkling in distaste.

"It's not even sunny yellow," Harry adds with a smile so big, I wonder if his mouth is splitting. "It's like a kind of gold."

"Dull. It is a dull gold," I add immediately. "It doesn't even sparks!"

Magdy laughs seriously.

"Are you still stuck with the thought that all that looks good on you is your old school uniform?" she asks me with a mischievous smile.

"Magdy," I reproach him. "You're supposed to be on my side, not Harry's side."

Magdy strokes my head.

"Hard to stop dressing up like a prince, right Dray?" she winks at me.

"Today I want to try a triple with cheese," I tell her, relaxing my muscles. Two people sit at our table. However, I briefly ignore them. "And, I am not a prince."

Magdy smiles at me.

"Don't let your father hear you deny the titles you hold," Magdy continues to tease me. "What can I bring you this time, handsome?" Magdy asks Harry with a suggestive wink.

"Are you sure you're not having a spasm, Mag?" I ask her, while an evil smile crosses my lips.

Magdy hits me with her notebook on the head.

"Ouch," I complain because it's the proper thing to do at a time like this.

“If your father ever hears of your behavior, child, he will ground you for life. Now, darling, what do you want?"

"Uh..." Harry hesitates, as I see the other two people looking at the menu. "Something spicy."

"Oh, excellent Mr. Handsome," Is Magdy flirting with Harry? "And you two sweeties?" She's addressing the two people I don't know at all, but since Harry said she wanted to introduce me to two very important people to her, I'm assuming these are them.

"A chicken one and this thing called Burguenator," the red-haired boy with the big biceps tells him.

"Soda all?" Magdy looks at me and I can see the evil gleam in her eyes.

They say that grandmothers are kind and sweet, certainly the person who said that has never met Magdy Baison.

"Yup," answers the girl with curly chocolate hair. "Coke, please."

"I'll be back in a moment," Magdy says, and stops next to me. "You'll have soda today, honey."

I turn my face and look at her like she's the nastiest thing on the planet. I watch her walk away with laughter still reverberating softly around her.

"She loves you," Harry tells me and takes my hand in his on the table. "Do you remember that I wanted to introduce to you two very important people to me?" I nod softly to Harry's question. "They are Hermione and Ron," both people sitting, one next to me, the other next to Harry, their eyes softening as they spoke their names. "They are... family. A kind of sibblings."

"Not by blood," says the girl I assume is Hermione. "But, yes. We are sibblings of feelings."

I smile at the girl and separate my hand from Harry's to extend it to her.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Dray… Black,” I add at the end.

The female-one shakes my hand and I kind of feel strange.

"Hermione Granger," he tells me with a small smile. "Next..."

"Next Minister for Magic," the redhead completes for her. I look at the girl strangely. “And I'm Ron… uh. Ronald Weasley. "

However, the boy does not extend his hand to me, but shoves his shoulder against mine and I almost fell out of the chair.

"Watch out for the Duke, sweetie," Magdy says, as she sets the burgers on the table. "Mark decided orange juice for you," she places the glass of orange liquid in front of me. “You don't want your dad to murder you in your dreams for hurting his heir,” she tells Ron.

I see Ron turn pale immediately.

"That's not true, Dad won't do anything to you," Something flicks in his eyes. I cannot pinpoint it, yet. I put my hand on his cheek, then slapping him without much force. "But, I'd appreciate it if you don't push me again."

“A triple cheeseburger, a double cheeseburger, a chicken burger and a Burguenator,” Magdy says as two people come up behind her with two trays of food. "Enjoy it."

And then she retires. I look at Hermione and Harry, side by side, in complete peace.

"It's the best food I've ever had," says Ron, as he begins to chew like a pig.

I look at him in revulsion and shifted my eyes from him to the girl in front of me.

"And what do you do?" I ask, then take a bite of my burger.

"I'm like M.I.6," Hermione looks at Harry, like she's asking him something and the boy just shrugs. "But, for the magic."

"Oh, do you have magic too, like Harry?" I ask him, feeling something warm inside my chest.

Hermione nods excitedly.

"And Ronald is Harry's partner," she tells me softly.

Ah?

"In the magical police," Harry tells me in a hurry, as I look at said redhead. Now I understand why his body is so muscular.

"That's right, we take care of catching the bad guys, call themselves followers of the Dark Lord," says the redhead and immediately I feel the tension in the air.

"Ron," Harry and Hermione scold him at the same time.

"What?" he asks them innocently.

"It is bad?" I ask Ron.

"He's like a Hitler," Hermione responds quickly. "But, with Narcist complexes, if Narcissus had been a snake."

What?

"Why?" I ask, interested in learning about this phase of Harry's life.

"Because apparently he can come back from the dead," the redhead tells me and I immediately choke on my drink. “They have tattoos on their arms and they enjoy torturing Muggles. And his wish is to kill Harry."  
Harry pats me on the back of my hand and stares at me. His eyes clouding with fear.

"You good?" Harry asks me.

However, I cannot answer him, yet.

I'm completely sure I've heard that somewhere: The Dark Lord. But, I can't say for sure where or from whom. Aida Garifullina's voice snaps me out of my musings and I focus my gaze on Harry.

I lean across the table and left a kiss on Harry's cheek. Ron turns red and Hermione looks at me like I'm the president myself.

"I'm fine," I reply to Harry. Aida's voice caressing my ears and comforting my heart. "So, you are so handsome that a man wants to kill you?" he asked Harry, trying to lighten the mood.

I don't know why, but it pains me to think of the thought of not being by Harry's side or losing him forever.

"Apparently," he tells me.

"It's like this since we've been in Hogwarts," Hermione tells me. "But, as you can see, Harry is too handsome to be fooled by an ugly child."

I am grateful for Hermione.

"Hogwarts is the Castle we went to, right?" I ask none in particular. "The house of the Sorting Hat that offended my fashion sense."

Hermione looks at Harry as if she can extract the answers from his head.

"I took Dray to Hogwarts a few days ago," he tells them. "The sorting hat thought it was a good idea to put him in Hufflepuff," he tells them and smiles at me.

"It's a good house," Hermione tells me.

"Ugh," I look at her with disdain. “It is not the house. It is the aberrant color. I am pale, now imagine me wearing a little yellow-like-flower coat over my skin."

Hermione laughs and I pretend to be outraged. I turn my face and see Ron and his empty plate.

"Are you going to eat that, mate?" he asks Harry, looking at said guy's fries.

Harry pass his potatoes over the table.

"What are you humming, Dray?" Harry asks me.

Without realizing it, I stopped paying attention to everything to focus on the velvety voices of Aida and Dimash.

"Ulisse," I tell him, as I look up at the small speakers scattered around the room. "It brings back good memories."

"From your dad?" Harry asks me.

"No. From school,” I reply. “There were clubs there for whatever you wanted. And one of my favorites was the choir. I have always been happy wrapped up in music. Albus says it's because my dad used to sing to me all the time when I was a baby,” I tell them quietly. “When I started growing up, and Magdy started taking care of me after elementary school, I stayed here. On Tuesdays and Thursdays there are karaoke bars with real musicians and Magdy likes good music, as you can see."

Hermione nods.

"Harry told us you're a musician," Hermione says, but Harry looks at her like he can't believe what his friend just said. "He also said that you are the youngest in the London Symphony Orchestra."

I feel my cheeks turn red as I try to look anywhere but Hermione. This girl spits out knowledge like it's anything.

Well, she's a know-it-all. I'm sure Harry can spit out that knowledge when it comes to Quidditch as well. Yet what knowledge can Ron spit out?

"Ron, can I ask you something?" I look at him and the redhead looks at me with his mouth full. I hear him make an affirming sound. "What are you a brainiac at?"

I see him choking on food, trying to breathe, swallow and speak at the same time. Something that seems like an impossible task. However, this guy can pull it off.

"Brainiac, me?" he points his thumb at himself and I see him deny quickly.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Harry and Hermione looking at me with something akin to curiosity. Or maybe they think I'm stupid.

I do not know. And it doesn't interest me right now.

"Yes," I reply after a few seconds of silence. "What are you exceptionally good at?" I ask him, looking into his blue eyes.

"Uh," he tells me and I can see the Loading Circle on his forehead. "In chess?" Looked at him. "Chess." He answers me safer. "I'm good at it."

So a Hitler with a Narcissistic complex is after Harry, who is a genius when it comes to moving his own body, or that's what I believe after watching Quidditch play. It features Hermione Granger who is an agent equivalent to the M.I.6 and someone who can be considered a colonel for the English troops.

"Good to know," I tell him, while patting him on the back. “Good to know,” I repeat, stealing a potato chip from the redhead.

Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω

"So ..." Harry tells me, as I sit on the table that forms his kitchen island. "What did you think of 'Mione and Ron?"

I smile, as I watch him put a kettle on the stove.

"Can't wizards heat up things up with their wands?" I ask, remembering how Zephora did it, back when I was a kid.

"Uh ..." Harry looks at me like he's trying to see inside my brain. "Yes."

I nod gently, looking at the small white kitchen with a pile of boxes scattered on the floor. There are no chairs, and there is only a cup, and tupperware next to the stove. There are no suspended shelves, like at dad's house.

"Harry, are you moving?" I ask him, pointing a finger at the boxes.

Now that I think about it, when we passed the living room, there were no photographs... Or armchairs, or anything, really.

"No," he tells me walking towards me. “I never finished unpacking when I moved. I guess, in a way, I still think Voldemort will kill me,” he tells me, his green eyes saddening.

"And do you want him to kill you?" I ask him, putting my hands on his cheeks.

Harry is so beautiful.

"No," he tells me and I hear him swallow. “I want to live to keep knowing you. To have a million dates with you."

"So, Harry Potter," I say putting leaning my body into his. “Time to unpack. It is time for you to have a home to return to after you are done with the magical Hitler."

Harry nods softly and I lean in to do something I've never done in my life.

"Are you sure you want this, Dray?" Harry asks me when the distance between our foreheads is almost minimal.

"Don't you want it?" I ask him in a whisper.

"I want this and more," he tells me softly, but I can see the sparkle in his eyes dying. Harry's hand entwines with mine. “But, I don't live in a fantasy world, Dray. What Hermione said today, about a man wanting to kill me, is true. And maybe I'll never live to have this million dates with you."

"That's not what matters, Harry," I tell him, stroking his cheek with my free hand. “Do you know what is very very important in life? Do you know what is most important when you live such a short life, Harry? " I ask him and see him softly deny. “The most important thing when you think you are gonna part soon is to love and let yourself be loved. And you, Harry, are adept at the former, and a failure at the latter."

Harry laughs softly. However, it is not a sound of joy. It is a sound similar to that made by a man who has been badly injured. A sad laugh.

"So Harry," I say very softly. "What's it gonna be? Are you going to keep loving me and not let me love you? Or are you going to take my hand and allow me to walk this life by yourside, no matter if it is a short or a long one."

I see the tears fall from his beautiful green eyes.

"I'm tired of walking alone, Dray," he says choking on his tears. "I'm tired of fighting alone, when this isn't just for my good."

"Then let me fight by your side, Harry," I tell him, wiping his tears away.

“You are very precious to me, Dray. I would never let you go to the battlefield and give Voldemort a chance to hurt you."

"Then, let me give you a reason to come back after the battle is over," I whisper against his lips. Harry nods. "Would you kiss me now, Harry?" I ask him.

Harry laughs, and this time is a light one. He laughs, but he leans into me and when his lips cover mine, I close my eyes and focus on feeling the moment. My chest shrinking, as something overflows into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. I was feeling like a melting marshmallow writting the final paragraph.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robards is pissed. Kingsley is mad. Neekeal and Harry wants to cover for Kingsley. Harry is not as sweet as we all think. Hermione is still the brain and Ron is human too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I will change the days of updating to Saturdays, because work and college and concerts are killing my week time. So, week-ends shall be. 
> 
> Here I left this one. Enjoy it with coffee and crisps. 
> 
> Try to bless everyone around you.

NOVEMBER 7th, 2002

HARRY

I take a deep breath trying to stay in my seat, while watching Robards pacing from side to side. His hands flicks back and forth wildly, his mouth is moving fast, and his face is so red it looks like a tomato.

"What do you think Robards is yelling, mate?" Ron asks me with a smile plastered on his lips. "He looks as like a tomato."

I shrug, because I really don't want to know what put Robards in this state. Although, if there is anything to guess, it may be that this is all because of the case of the child of Narcissa Black. Robards has always been a lickboot, and pleasing Kingsley has been one of his goals since we take over the Ministry.

This behavior now... It's strange.

"That's all there is, Robards," Kingsley tells him, covered from head to toe in robes that scream: Minister for Magic. Don't mess up with me. "You are relegated to whatever Neekeal needs. This time is no longer yours," Kingsley stares at me after that. "How are you, Harry?"

"I'm fine sir," I reply, nodding gently.

"I hope you fill out the form, Harry," he tells me in a serious tone.

"He's muggle," I reply, fighting a smile.

“Well, it's the rules. When you finish, take the papers to my office," he tells me in a serious tone.

"Yes sir," I reply.

"Head Auror Robards, Head Unspeakable Neekeal is in control of this team now," he tells Robards again. "I mean it."

What? Why?

The door to conference room 2A closes and the only ones left are Ron, Wardwood and myself.

“You listened to the minister, gentlemen,” says Robards. “You will assist the Unspeakables in finishing wrapping up the Narcissa Black case. Now that there is a paint with her in it, the most appropriate thing will be… Take it as a witness”.

"A court will not take as a witness an old painting that the world has not seen for more than two decades," Wardwood claims, crossing his arms. "She is useless and irrelevant to this case."

"You can tell Neekeal that," Robards tells us. "Who, by the way, is waiting for the three of you in conference room 1B in the Mysteries department." Robards adjusts his robes. "Have a good morning, gentlemen."

And with that he leaves the room, leaving us bewildered and disoriented.

"This is crazy," Wardwood says, rubbing his hands over his face. "I have not been in this case for more then twenty-four hours and I already feel that I want it to end. I thought the cases Harry Potter was assigned were the best to work on."

I pat Wardwood on the back.

"Nothing is ever what it seems, Wardwood," I tell him, as I stand up and start to make my way to the Unspeakables floor. "Not in your job nor in your real life."

"So what does your lover think of us?" Ron asks me. "Although I assume that from the goofy smile you came with this morning, we didn't give him such a bad impression."

I laugh listening to Ron's nonsense.

"He liked you guys," I tell Ron, as we get into the elevator. Wardwood enters right after us. "However, you already know that. I am glad he liked you lot."

Ron gives me one of those smiles that try to lighten the mood, but come out too stiff to be true.

"Just wait until mom says he should be comming home to meet all the others..." Ron sighs.

"Ginny still hates me?" I ask him.

"She never did, Harry," Ron tells me sincerely. "It have been over for more then five years. She broke with you. She was hating herself before she yelled she hated you."

"She avoided me," I reply to him fastly. "Still is."

"I am sorry Harry," Ron whispers.

"Why? You wasn't the one who broke up with me because you wanted someone to hold your hand, while I was actively trying to become a better wizards, trying to tame my own magic."

"I am sorry about Ginny and George, and he way I said to your boyfriend that a psociopath is after you," he tells me and I can see his cheeks turn red. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"But, I appreciate it, Ron. Ginny levaing and George being mad about it. I even am grateful for you breaking something like that to my non-boyfriend-yet," I tell him, giving him a smile. "If your comment contributed anything, it was to take a big load off my shoulders and also to our first kiss," I laugh when Ron makes a disgusted face. "So thanks".

The doors opens to let in Lion Moon.

Interesting.

"Ugh Harry," he says to me, looking away. "I don't want to know anything about who you have sex with."

I laugh.

"It wasn't sex, Ron," I tell him, but don't stop. “It was just a kiss. A very good one and… "

Ron puts his hand over my mouth.

"I get it. There is no need to traumatize me,” he tells me in a serious tone. “However, I am glad that he is with you, Harry. He, I mean it's good that he still wants to stay by your side."

"New conquest, Potter?" Lion Moon asks me. "A bitch eager to kiss you. Why it doesn't suprise me?"

"At least I have someone to kiss me, Moon," I tell him in a serious tone, having taken Ron's hand from my mouth. "Not even because your mother is alive does she want to kiss you," I tell him harshly. "Or been seen with you, for that matter." I know I am being vicious, but this is easy when I have my intern Snape to help me with it.

"Shut up, Potter," and Moon takes out his wand. "Not all of us came here because of our name, some of us had to work hard to earn a spot."

"Don't tell me," I reply sarcastically. "So you think you had it very difficult?" I ask him. "Studying a lot of spells every night," I tell him and I can feel my magic thundering around my body. "And tell me something, Moon," I say, taking a step forward. "How many times have you screwed up a mission?" I ask him in a whisper. “Because I've been on six missions with you, not counting the Narcissa Black case. And somehow, even though we never heard from her son, you managed to screw that up too."

Moon lets out a spell and magic repels it.

Which is very curious, because my magic has never done such a thing. And it doesn't feel like mine at all. The scent of Dray invades my senses. Moon is looking at me like if I am some kind of freak.

Nothing new there.

"You are so hateful, that when you die, not even your mother will cry," and thank God, at that moment the elevator opens.

I remember Professor Snape right now, because he taught me what was one of the hardest lessons I had ever learned during my teen years. Young and immature, I believed that ignorance would give me the sympathy of others and Snape was always in charge of letting me know that it did not. And, there is no way I could beat Voldemort if I kept myself inside my own ignorance. Not when Voldemort is anything but ignorant about the rules in which the magical world and its population operate.

I'm not a pureblood, nor I am the Harry raised by Muggle uncles. Because, I know the only reason Voldemort got an army of Death Eaters was for the simple fact that he knows how to explode one of their stronges and controversial points of morality: the blood status.

And yet, I have done the same. The wrong reasons that will win this war.

I knock on the door with my knuckles and immediately hear Neekeal's pass. Ron comes in after me with Wardwood at his side.

"Gentlemen," Neekeal tells us. "It is a pleasure that you have joined us today."

Formalities. Kingsley prevailed over both of them. However, it was Kingsley himself who awakened Narcissa Black using Dray's blood. He is the one who kept that almost-death paint.

"Thank you for having us today, head of the Unspeakables," I say looking at her, then nodding gently in the direction of Blaise Zabini and Hermione.

"You can take a seat, gentlemen," Neekeal tells us, as he levitates the painting and then sticks it to the wall with her magic.

Neekeal wastes no time and once we are seated, three manila folders fly up to us.

"A gift from our friends in Warsaw," Neekeal tells us. "They tied the scene and managed to find a couple of cool things." Neekeal tells us. “For example, the blood in Narcissa Black's body was not just hers, but someone who shared more than 80% of his or her DNA with... Andromeda Tonks. This procedure costs magicians a lot of money. However, Kingsley gave his consent to do so. For those of you who don't know what it is, the Unspeakable Granger will tell you about genetics,” Neekeal tells us.

"It's like magic, but to find out if someone is your family or not" Hermione says and I stare at her. That was not what they taught me at CSI. “Or if the blood on your clothes is yours or someone else's. Or if the murderer was the good twin and not the one that everyone thinks is bad." Hermione says as succinctly as possible.

Thank God, 'Mione has learned to control her know-it-all side.

"So ..." Wardwood says reading the folder. "Was the blood on Narcissa's clothes from her and someone close to her family?"

"Even if 22 years ago they didn't find the body, the blood is good enought to know. That blood might be from Draco Black," says Neekeal. "He can be a 95% dead if these results tell us anything." Says the woman with almost white hair and black robes. "No baby can live without half the blood in its body," says Neekeal. "Let alone a baby wizard. Hitted with a speel like the AK, his body will desintegrate and become magic, since he was from magic. Babies made the most accidental magic because they are still from magic, more then anyone of us."

This shit is so hard. But it's good at the same time, because whatever Kingsley is trying to do, Neekeal is covering for him. And so is Ron, and Hermione, and me. But, Wardwood is new, and he have been working with me long enought to know.

Show time.

"How did they arrive at this result?" I ask and Neekeal looks at me like I'm stupid.

"We, unlike Muggles, Auror Potter, can restore things," Neekeal tells me. "Unspeakable magic level can transform a solid into a liquid again. While it is not a 100% true copy, it is better than nothing."

I see Wardwood from the corner of my eye. He's brain is slowing down if the frown dessapearing form his forehead is something to go by.

"So, are we closing a case based on unfaithful evidence?" I ask her, trying to be as respectful as I can.

"Unreliable, Auror Potter," Blaise tells me with a grin. "To say that the prove is unfaithful sounds like we are talking about a rendez-vouz."

“All that remains of this case is to find Narcissa Black's wand, although at this point it probably no longer exist. But we have to try, wands can help others to find certain... Things,” says Neekeal. People. Narcissa's wand knows her son, it can pinpoint him without failing. "The reason we are here is because there have been reports of Death Eaters prowling around the place where Narcissa Black and her child perished. We believe they are looking for that wand, too. He have to find it first, since we cannot find her child in time," Neekeal seems sad. "We failed 22 years ago and you are a younger generation. And I am sorry you have to live in the middle of this shitty world. But, if we want peace, we have to actively start to fight for it."

This is why they moved us. Neekeal is trusting in Wardwood and so is Kingsley. And I may too, but Dray is too precious to me to risk him. If I have to waste time searching for this soil, then be it. But, I am pretty sure Voldemort is not looking for such thing, he is actively looking for Draco Black, the wizard. Which led me to ask myslef: is Voldemort aware of Draco's real father? For all I know, he could be. Still, there's someone that knows, even if that person is not alive.

"I'm listening to hypotheses," says Neekeal in a serious tone, as the board clears.

"Maybe they're still looking for the spot where they die," Ron says.

"That's impossible," Hermione tells him in a serious voice. "If you take into account the natural factors and that perhaps it was left in the open, chances are that not even its bones remain. As Neekeal said, the most probably thing is for his baby body to turn to magic again."

"But I could have kept their land," Wardwood says. “That is the reason why magical sites are rare. That is the reason why we have highly powerful rituals. Because witches and wizards died and spilled their blood on the ground. His bones turn to dust and the magic is still there somehow, on the ground, in the form of dust,” says Wardwood. "And not only is his blood there with his dust," and that sounds very bad. “But there is the blood of Narcissa Black. And she was a great witch." Thank God, Wardwood's brain is slowing. He feel safe now, I can keep going. "You can actually make a ritual in there and be sure it will work, because there raw magic was spilled, the blood of a baby is still more powerful then a grown up wizard. Babies can do wandless and wordless magic, some remarkable grown up wizards can," he says. "But, not even Dumbledore can do both at the same time. That place, wherever it is, is now a Magical Place and a really powerful one, like Hogwarts," he says. "It can work. A necromancy ritual, can work in there."

"I don't know of any Black who is less than formidable," says Neekeal, sitting on the edge of the table. "I want that powder on my table and that place glamoured, and I want Narcissa's wand," she tells us in a serious tone. "You have forty-eight hours to bring it to me, otherwise I will pass this on to Hit Wizards."

Something peeks in my head.

"Can Voldemort make a new body using this magic powder?" I ask Neekeal.

"Anything is possible when we talk about magic, Auror Potter," he looks at me with his glowing eyes. "After all, you managed to survive an Unforgivable."

But, that was because of my mom's magic. Still, no one else had done it before. My mom protected me. Is the same thing Narcissa did for her son? And...

What the hell is Kingsley planning?

However, I may not have time to find out today. Or maybe Kingsley will never tell me. However, it all goes back to what Kingsley knows. Kingsley and the ancient painting of Narcissa, and there is no one who wants to claim it and Dray can see it again.

Unless… He's actively trying to bring Dray to the Wizarding World. If Voldemort is searching for the kid, why give him the oportunity to see him in the middle of the Ministry? The only eplanation an auror can give for that is... Ambush.

I smile behind my hand. Kingsley Shackletbolt is a fucking genious.

Ω Ω Ω Ω

"Are you sure we are standing in the right place?" I hear Ron ask for the umpteenth time, as we continue to circle around the only property that is under Narcissa's name.

Hermione looks at me and then looks at Zabini.

"Yes," she replies in a serious tone, while continuing to wave her wand from side to side.

I take a deep breath trying to understand when this mission got so bizarre. And yet I know that it is necessary to win this war. Keeping where Dray Black is a secret is an advantage in our favor. An advantage I am glad to take even if that mean playing the circus for Kingsley and Neekeal.

"Well then, the mark must be somewhere here," says Zabini, turning and looking at the tree-covered terrain. "But, where did se really dies?" he asks and I look at the heaven, like asking for guidance.

The breeze moves the trees and I am so grateful that I made the wise decision to wear a coat and scarf today. I close my eyes and let my magic travel freely around the trees surrounding the little log cabin with white and mint paint. The smell of pine trees invades my senses and makes me feel relaxed.

However…

"Mione," I call out to her, as I open my eyes watching one spot specifically. "What is that?" I ask pointing to the only tree that seems to be outside the circle of vegetation that surrounds the house.

"It's just an elm tree, Harry," Hermione tells me, squeezing my shoulder.

"It's not what it is, Mione," I tell her, walking forward. "It's how..." I put my hand on the tree trunk. "It feels."

Hermione looks at me seriously and I can hear the gears in her brain shifting disproportionately.

"What do you feel, Harry?" she asks me, placing her hand on the trunk.

"It feels warm," I tell her, trying to put words to what I feel on my chest. However, Hermione touches it like she's looking for the nonexistent tree fever. “It feels like… I don't know. It's strange. It feel like him."

"Your boyfriend?" she asks me in a whisper.

I nod.

Hermione waves her wand and the tree disappears from view.

"We're leaving," she says in a serious tone, as she begins to put glamour on herself. "Glamour everyone, now."

Without thinking twice, I start to do as Hermione said. I know what I have to erase to stop looking like Harry Potter. Moody was so rude when he taught me, that I'm sure, I can even do it in my own dreams.

"To the usual place," Blaise says in almost a whisper. Meanwhile, I can feel new sources of magic begin to break into the barriers.

I take Hermione's hand.

"Ready?" I ask her, and watch her nod. Her eyes still on the spot where the weird tree was. I think of my destiny and aparate to Rocamadur, then to London and finally , we appear at the Ministry. At the base of the Unspeakables.

"How did it went?" Neekeal asks once Ron arrives with Blaise.

"We found Narcissa Black's wand," Hermione blurts out as if it were an everyday thing.

"No, we didn't," Blaise says immediately.

"Yes, we did," Hermione tells him again.

"And where is it?" Neekeal asks, her eyes troubled.

"In the woods," I answer softly, sitting down on the only available surface: Neekeal's desk.

"How do you leave something so valuable in the forest?" Neekeal asks.

"Voldemort's lapdogs were there," I tell her in a serious tone. “Had we brought Narcissa Black's wand they would have known immediately. We would have hinted what the place is trying to hide."

"A wand can't hint them ..." Neekeal begins.

"This one can," I say swallowing hard. "We had two choices, take the wand and give Voldemort power, or not take it and buy some more time."

"There was no wand in the forest," Blaise says on the brink of yelling at us and I think the only thing that helps him not to do so is Neekeal's gaze.

"Yes there was," Hermione tells her. "It's just not a conventional wand."

Hermione bites her lip and Ron looks at her, like he can get the secrets of the world out of her with just that look.

"If we took the wand they would know," I tell them in a serious tone. "We will be screwed."

"Why?" Neekeal asks, looking at all of us.

"Because it's an eight-foot wand," I reply, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. "And it's what keeps the property's barriers active." Neekeal looks at me, not believing what I just told her. “It is so, you cannot enter Stone Hedge if you are not worthy. You cannot enter Hogwarts without someone to accompany you. The same happens with that property. It is protected, by that holy eight-foot wand. "

"How did they get in then?" Neekeal asks and Hermione looks at me immediately. "Auror Potter?" she asks me with his eyes on me.

I shake gently. There is no way in the world for me to tell you why.

"What can I tell you," I shrug. "I'm Harry Potter," I tell her smiling.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my beloved readers. I hope you are all good.

NOVEMBER 9th, 2002

HARRY

"Leave that alone, Harry," Hermione says slapping my hand and taking it away from the tie.

"Why does Harry have to wear a tie?" Ron asks, as he takes a handful of Doritos that Dray left here the other day. The day he told me that he would give me a reason to return after the battle. After all was said and my tears were wipped away form my face, we went to buy junk food to celebrate that the night was cold, or so, Dray said.

"Because it's important," Hermione replies as if that might answer Ron's question.

I hear two knocks on the door and I feel the frozen lake that is Dray Black's magic. For some strange reason, I am not able to say his full name yet.

"It's Dray," I tell Ron in a nervous tone, as I try to take a deep breath to stop feeling the horde of doxies threatening to tear my stomach in half.

I hear Ron walk away and Hermione charges back. Her hands trying to fix the tie that I desperately want to rip from my neck. I hear a mocking giggle to my left and turn my head so fast I feel my brain slam into my skull.

"Is that a tie?" Dray's voice makes the nerves in my stomach rise.

Does Dray think I look stupid wearing a tie?

"Yup," Hermione replies in a serious tone. “It is an event with an orchestra. You have to be presentable."

I hear Draco giggle again and see him stand in front of Ron to undo my best friend's tie.

"Not for this one. This is not a formal event, Miss Hermione," Dray tells her, as he tosses Ron's tie on the couch in my apartment. “It is not necessary for them to wear a tie or cloth pants. A black jean and a long-sleeved shirt of any color is sufficient. Plus, you guys will be in the VIP area,” he tells us, as he fixes my best friend's shirt collar. “It is not necessary for them to hang themselves with a tie. The only ones who need to dress like princes for this event are the musicians. It is something that our director always demands and provides."

Ron breathes in relief, once Dray finishes rolling up his left sleeve.

I look back at my best friend and with an apologetic smile, I undo my tie and throw it on the couch in the living room. An armchair that still has the cover from the move on.

"Thank you, love," I say, approaching him and placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Remember to arrive like any Muggle, preferably in a taxi," Dray tells us in a serious tone. "Now, I need one of you to do the magic trick that teleports you from one place to another in order to get there on time," Dray says in a serious tone.

And I stop for a moment to appreciate his slender body wrapped in a white shirt with a gold clasp where the tie should go. My boyfriend? I don't know yet, but I hope we will soon be. Dray looks desirable dressed that way.  
I feel a hand connecting against my abdomen and the air leaves my lungs.

"Stop lusting and pay attention to me," Dray tells me in a serious tone. “When you go through the door, they will put a green headband on your wrist, that means you are in the VIP area. That is, you will sit at tables and you can drink and eat whatever is on the table. In addition, there will be a ten minute break for every forty minutes of concert. " Dray tells me, his hands rolling my shirt sleeve up. "You look beautiful," he says and then slaps me softly, which, although it doesn't hurt, does enough to make me feel uncomfortable. "That was for lusting me in front of your friends." Dray turns and I use the moment to plant a smile on my own lips.

Who would say that a slap can give you pleasure?

"I have faith in you, Miss Hermione," Dray tells her, giving her a smile that could compete against the sun. I feel something shrink inside my chest. Something monstrous and horrible, and I swallow the feeling as best I can.

"We'll be on time," says Hermione smiling to him. "We will not embarrass you."

Dray nods, his blond-white hair combed beautifully to one side, exposing his face. I take a deep breath, completely destroying the monster that threatens to show its ugly head and pull Hermione's hand away from Dray's arm.

"Are you okay, Harry?" I hear the crack of the apparition and Ron's words are heard as mere whispers.

"Yes," I reply, trying to kill the ugly monster that lives in my chest. "I'm fine."

"You sure? You look pale,” Ron tells me. His blue eyes looking at me, searching.

"I'm fine mate," I tell him, putting a smile on my lips.

And yet the feeling of wanting to push Hermione away from Dray is still there. The horrible thoughts are still there.

I hear the crack of an apparition again and I know that Hermione has returned.

"What happened to Harry?" Mione asks and puts a hand on my cheek. "Are you okay?" asks me.

I shake my head softly and yet, although I don't say a word, Hermione lets it pass and wraps me in her arms.

"Everything is going to be fine, Harry," she says trying to comfort me, now not only with her arms, but also with her words and her magic. “We will be with Dray the entire distance, and he won't even know that we are protecting him, because he was the one who invited us in the first place. If Voldemort remains angry that he cannot trespass on Narcissa Black's property and attacks Muggles to hurt you, we will be there and we will take Dray to safety. "

I nod, not arguing with Hermione. It's best to let her think that my fears are based on what might happen today, after I took Narcissa Black's wand seconds before the Death Eaters appeared.

I hug Hermione back and try to smile for her. Although her words are not far from the truth, I know that I feel bad for different reasons. I hadn't felt so much anger inside me since fifth year, when the wizarding world turned against me.

And all because Hermione touched Dray.

"What time is this thing again?" Ron asks, holding four rectangles in his right hand.

Hermione pulls away from me and smiles at Ron.

You have nothing to worry about, Harry, I tell myself to try to put order in my own head. Hermione loves Ron.

Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω

Teddy is in my arms, looking at everything around him. The small bracelet with red and black beeds that rests on his wrist, enclosing his magic. This was something I had been putting off, spending time with my godson. And even though Voldemort is angry, I don't think that's enough of a reason to attack Muggles, especially not something as out of his sight as a concert.

Teddy looks around with big green eyes. His mouth open, sucking on one of his fists. Teddy is so small, almost a year and a half, his first teeth are showing and I am really happy that I was chosen to carry the title of Godfather, while Ginny wears that of Godmother.

"You like it, bear?" I ask Teddy and his eyes, the shade as mine, look at me. I tickle his tummy and watch him stir, as he smiles at me and the drool falls from his lips.

My magic calms down and my grip loosens a bit more. Teddy keeps looking at everything, his little hand in his mouth, while he scratches his gums.

"This is beautiful," Hermione tells me to my right, Ron to my left. The three taking care of Teddy with this formation.

"There will be music, right?" Ron whispers, coming closer to us. Our bodies looking towards the entrance of the place. While the muggle girl put a green headband on his wrist.

Hermione nods when we arrive to our table, as a family sits across from us. A flag of France is draped over the shoulders of a man and I notice, that our outfits blend well with the crowd. Most of the people attending are wearing black or blue jeans and a shirt. The women wear casual dresses and low shoes.

The woman seating across from us looks at Teddy and immediately begins to make faces at him. My godson gives the stranger his full attention and the lady lets out a loud laugh when the little Metamorphmagus gives her a four-tooth smile.

"He's so beautiful," says the lady, spreading her hand across the table. Teddy stands on my lap and squeezes the lady's hand and then tries to bring the alien hand to his own mouth.

"Teddy, no," I tell the little wizard in a playful whisper, as I hug him and pull him away from the lady's hand. "I am sorry," I tell her and she just smiles at me.

Teddy keeps trying to get closer to the stranger's hand to bring it to his mouth. However, the sound of cymbals and drums puts him on alert and he forgets the woman in front of him to search around him. Some of them begin to stand up, while others remain seated in their places, clapping their hands, and after a few seconds I see a white-haired man, dressed as a prince, walking down the path created by the tables and waving to everyone.

"Tata," Teddy tells me, pointing at the people marching to the stage and the second white hair I see passing is Dray. Dressed like a prince, with a gold medallion around his neck, he makes me feel extremely proud. "Tata," Teddy starts bouncing on my legs. "Tata!"

I hug Teddy, restricting my strength.

"Yes, Teddy," I say, leaving a kiss on his brown hair. "Dray," I say pointing with my index finger, at the blonde head dressed as a prince.

"Tata," Teddy babbles again, waving his little hand.

The remaining members of the orchestra take their seats and I listen to a typical London tune: Seventy-Six Trombones. Teddy doesn't stop bouncing on my tights. Hermione offers the little wizard a pacifier, and Teddy immediately opens his mouth to start biting the rubber with his gums.

"I'm glad his mouth doesn't hurt so much," Hermione tells me, looking straight ahead. "Look, Teddy, it's Dray."

The camera briefly focuses on my beloved blond and I can see his hand delicately grasping the bow. However, unlike many other musicians, Dray's hand is bare. While his comrades wear wedding and engagement rings on their fingers, Dray's fingers are completely empty.

Soon, Dray. Soon I will put a ring on your finger to tells the whole world we are together.

The conductor of the orchestra greets us, first in English, then in German, some other languages that I have no idea what they are, and finally I listen to Buenas Noches in Spanish. One of the few things I learned in Magical International Cooperation.

Two pieces later, three male singers appear, also dressed as princes. Teddy watches them intently, his little hands trying to clap in time to the music. Suddenly the man throws a raspberry at us with his tongue and the whole place erupts with laughter.

The afternoon passes peacefully, while the orchestra continues to perform music from each European country and the audience applauds with each of the pieces performed, some people get up to dance, and Ron and Hermione dance a waltz together and I am happy to know who are enjoying themselves, forgetting for a moment the imminent war that awaits us in the magical world.

The breeze starts to get colder with each passing minute, and I end up wrapping Teddy in a blue colored coat, which has a huge Bowtruckle in the middle. All afternoon, Teddy has laughed with the people who accompany us at this table and I feel immensely happy, the amount of laughter, the sweet and happy looks, the smile of the musicians on stage, all this makes me feel more lightweight.

Teddy ends up asleep in my arms as the pieces begin to soften. It is the first time in my fourteen months of being a godfather that I have seen my godson fall asleep without putting up a fight over that simple act. And I smile, tucking Teddy into my arms, his chest moving gently up and down.

"Look," Hermione whispers to me.

And I lift my face to see a man place a chair in the middle of the stage and Dray sitting on it. The camera focuses on the gray-eye man, his eyes are illuminated by the large lamps and I can see how his body slowly begins to relax. The gestures on his face reflect a melancholy that I never thought possible in someone so full of life.

And suddenly, everything around me goes completely silent. Even a waiter with an already empty tray stops and sets her eyes on the blond. And I feel it in the air... Draco's magic, enveloping those present, filling their hearts with a love so great, it hurts. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the man with the Spanish flag, still on his shoulder, hugging his wife, while the piece continues to play. Dray's fingers dancing on the black neck of his instrument.

His eyes close briefly, and then he opens them, his gray irises staring up at the sky. And even as his bow is raised, his middle finger is still moving over the instrument, and it sounds like a human being has taken its last breath.

I see Hermione wipe away the tears that flow from her eyes. From one moment to the next, one person starts clapping and all the others follow, slowly coming out of the trance that Dray's magic put them into. His talent combined with his magic.

This is how Dray hadn't become a dark creature. Zephora Zambroni did her work pretty good. Keeping him pure and allowing him a way to do magic, even if he cannot feel it yet. Or maybe, he can. And I am glad I has been honored to share a kiss with this man.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our soloist: Dray Black," says the dconductor, walking up to Dray for a brief hug. "And Stefany Detray, our pianist," he says, bowing his head towards the pianist once Dray is released.

Dray holds his cello in a very peculiar way, then bows to his audience and returns to his seat in the orchestra. The applause slowly ceases and I feel comforted. A new piece starts and I feel satisfied. In my arms, Teddy is still sleeping. In front of me, the most beautiful man I have ever seen, keeps smiling and playing. And by my sides, my best friends smile at each other with undying love.

Around me, people shine and make me think that after all, the world is more beautiful than they could ever tell me. And that, in some way, we are all connected with others somehow. And even if we think we are alone, we never will be. You just have to look around to find one more reason to forgive and love.

And so it's how I want to live this short life. Giving, forgiving, sharing...

Loving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I love when people says hello. So, let me know what you think. I took my sweet time writting this 12 page chapter because I wasn't happy at how it keeps ending, and so I start to add more things to it. And now, I really loved it. 
> 
> So... Let me know what you think.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius learned a true or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am happy with this chapter, viewing things form Sirius perspective wasn't easy but it was enlighten and a bit sad at the same time. Which brough me to this: love everyone, specially if that someone is family.

NOVEMBER 11th, 2002

SIRIUS BLACK

"Breathe, Harry," I laugh at the face of my godson, the one who has been like my son after my name was restored. "I'm sure everything will be fine." I tell my godson for the third time in less than ten minutes. "It's not like your family is a pack of Dementors."

Harry looks at me with panicky green eyes.

“What if he doesn't like my family? What if he doesn't…? " I hear him say and I try to hide the laugh that tries to escape from my lips. "Sirius," Harry reproaches me. "It's not funny."

I smile at him, because Harry has no idea what beautiful memories his reaction brings back. Right now, I'm not standing in front of Harry Potter, but in front of James Potter on his first date with Lilly Evans. And I can't help but laugh at the resemblance, at the gestures, and at the meaningless sentences that come out of his mouth.

"Harry, he loves you," I tell my godson, putting my hands on his shoulders. “If not, he would have already left. Because being someone in your life, Prongslet, is very complicated,” I tell him trying to summon all the seriousness with which Lilly would have wanted me to treat the situation if she was still alive. "You have nothing to fear, if he was not afraid that a Death Eater would almost kill him with a spell, much less will he be afraid of a family dinner with some dishes and pots that fly all around the place," I try to put my words seriously.

However, a nervous giggle escapes me.

What I want most is for Harry to be happy. It's true that he has the Weasleys and me. However, Harry is growing up and the war is getting closer, every day more imminent and whatever happens at the end, I wish Harry would live, even if a few old souls whose journey is already ending have to die to achieve it. Even if I die, I want to be certain that Harry will have a place to return to. That he will have someone supporting him and making him laugh, even if laughing hurts or feels bad at the moment. Because life goes on, and living is always easier when you have someone by your side to wake up to.

"What if…?" He starts again, and I push him down the Weasley's chimney.

"Harry, go now or Dray is going to think you stood him," I tell him, putting the jar of Floo powder in his hand. "Remember: Care Rouge," I say, giving him a thumbs-up.

Amid green flames, Harry disappears.

"Difficult?" Arthur asks me, once I turn to walk into the kitchen.

"It's not easy trying to be a good influence," I tell the Weasley's patriarch. "Harry is too scared."

Arthur looks at me and laughs heartily.

"Don't you think that's funny..." he asks me, as we make our way to where it smells good. "That Harry can challenge a dark wizard who has tried to kill him since he was a baby without thinking about what might happen to him, but faced with the prospect of bringing the subject of his affections home, he may not be able to see past five minutes?"

arthur's words makes me laugh heartily.

"You're absolutely right, Arthur," I tell him, still laughing. "However, I don't know what all the fuss is about."

Arthur pats me on the shoulder a couple of times.

"That's because you've never tried to be serious with a girl or boy, Sirius," the older replied. “What's scary isn't whether he likes your family or not,” he tells me knowingly. “What is scary is that that person has the power to make or destroy you. And when we realize we have given that power to someone, we really begin to fear. That is why it is so difficult to meet the family of someone you have romantic feelings for,” he tells me, stopping at the door. “They can make or break you. A friend, it doesn't matter. But, a person who has really entered your heart…” and he shakes his head gently. “When we love people, we let them into our hearts, Sirirus. We give them a knife and a map which point the right place to cut to hurt us. And that..."

"It's scary," I finish the sentence for Arthur, as I reflect on what he just told me.

"Harry is still young, but his feelings have never been won lightly," Arthur continues, however, when I follow the point where his eyes are past, I see Molly. Her curly red hair is styled into a high bun and her bangs are falling over her forehead, while her hand tightly grips a wooden spoon. “Harry is our son too, Sirius. And I know that it has always been difficult for him to open up to people, and if this guy has really caught his attention, then I am willing to support him to the end. I would give my life for the happiness of each of my children, including Harry."

I look at the man in front of me and I feel such a great emotion… And for a few moments I envy Harry. James may not be here, but Arthur and Molly are, and they will always be Harry's family. Something that I didn't always have was parents like the Weasleys, but neither did Harry. And in a way it saddens me to know that Harry had to walk a path similar to mine, but alone.

While I had Regulus during my childhood and adolescence, Harry had no one. I had Reggie and Cissy, my two best friends, even though we were in different houses, back when we were at Hogwarts, and the love that they both gave me… It can never be compared. They were my family when everyone else turned their back on me. Narcissa with her sweet smile, very different from Andromeda and her serious way, or Bellatrix with her cynical smile and her thirst to make others suffer. And Reggie, with his silent displays of affection, his face turned to the side whenever I needed to talk about the cruelty of our parents or his slightly curved lips, as he looked down at the floor, ready to made me feel better with just a gesture.

My family at the end of the day... It was always the two of them. And then Remus and James, and then little Harry. Harry, who is now scared that this kid will despise his family and destroy his heart. However, Harry materializing in the Weasleys' yard brings me out of my reverie. I immediately see the Weasley twins open the door, giving me a wide view of Harry and his mysterious boyfriend.

Hair as white as snow and eyes as blue as a summer day. Immediately, his hand closes over Harry's and the biggest smile I've ever seen on a human appears on the new boy's lips.

"I still think it would be a great idea if they could put this in some kind of closet with which people can teleport from one place to another," says the boy and Harry leans in to place a kiss on the boy's white head.

"I'm sorry, love, but it's something that's inside us," Harry tells him, looking him straight in the eye.

"That doesn't mean it cannot be cool," the boy replies, lowering the huge suitcase he carries on his back. A black suitcase with cloth patches with names of bands I loved when I was younger, when Harry was a newborn.

Harry scratches the back of his neck and starts walking towards the twins.

"This is Dray," Harry tells them, as the white-haired boy looks at the Weasley twins. "And they are the twins, Gred and Forge," Harry says and I look at him from my place, trying not to laugh. "I mean, Fred and George," he directs his nervous laught to the opposite side of the boy.

And the boy just shrugs, easiness bleeding out of him.

"I am Dray," he replies, extending his hand.

However, he does not say his last name. Which seems to me the strangest thing in the world. I start to make my way to the door, where the twins are ruffling the poor boy, while Harry tries to get them away from the boy.

"I am Gred," say one of the twins. "And he is Forge," a huge smile plastering on their lips.

"Watch out for Dray," he tells them in a serious tone. "He's not..." and the words get stuck in my godson's mouth. "He's delicate," says Harry.

"Okay, we won't break your prince charming," says one of the twins, as he tries to walk and ends up tripping over the boy's suitcase.

I see the boy turn white hair turn paler than he is. And Harry follows in his footsteps to the fate of paleness.

"Molly," I start walking into the kitchen, looking for the only woman who can make the boys behave like normal people. "We need help," I say, stopping at the door.

"Is he here?" she asks me, putting the spoon aside and smiling broadly.

I nod gently, while taking a deep breath. Was the boy angry about his suitcase?

Molly walks past me so fast that I can perfectly smell the scent of her perfume as she leaves the kitchen. And like the good dog that I am, I trail after her.

"You must be Dray," says Molly, walking over to the boy, who is profusely apologizing to one of the twins and the last I see of that apology is the affected redhead ruffling Harry's boy's hair and then start talking to him about Merlin will know what.

Molly pulls him away from the twins to hold him in her arms. Somehow the action doesn't catch the boy by surprise, who immediately closes his arms around the woman's back. He closes his eyes and a smile reappears on his lips.

"Harry," Fleur's voice, strong and strange, fills the room and immediately the girl stops in front of the strange blonde. "Is he?" Fleur asks.

Harry and his companion are blushing to their lashes and I can't help a laugh escaping my lips.

"I thought no one knew about me," I hear Dray say as I move a little closer to the room. Molly still strangling the boy with love.

"I'm so happy that Harry has finally found someone," Molly says releasing the boy, as a smile explodes on the woman's lips.

"Harry wasn't wrong," I hear Arthur tell me. "His nervousness almost faded," he tells me, looking at the scene in front of us. Harry's eyes shining with admiration and something else.

"Harry!" I hear Ginny's voice loud and clear, as she descends the stairs of the Burrow with speed and then throws herself on Harry, who catches her and stumbles backwards. "At last!" Ginny says leaving a loud kiss on Harry's cheek and holding him in her arms. “I thought you would never come back for me. Did you come to ask me to marry you? " she asks, detaching herself from the black-haired man.

However, the seriousness on Dray's face makes me swallow hard. That look is so similar to the one Cissy gave people when she was trying to peacefully and strategically process some awkward situation, as a pureblood should.

"Uh," Harry swallows hard and his gaze falls on Dray, who has discreetly stepped away from Molly. "It's not what you think," Harry says quickly, taking Ginny off of him, but gently, and looking at Dray. Dray's head tilts to the side and he looks at Ginny and Harry carefully.

"And who's he?" the redhead asks, looking at Dray intently.

"Ginny," says Molly warningly.

"Ginny is a weird name for a boy," says the redhead, standing next to Harry. "My name is Ginny too," says the girl, smiling at him innocently.

"This is Ginny," says Harry pointing to the redhead. "She's like my little sister," Harry says, stepping forward and taking Dray's hand in her. "I'm sorry." Harry quickly apologizes. However, Dray drops Harry's hand abruptly, his expression neutral and serene.

I grow nervous just watching the blond kid's expression. It is so blank, one would think he is not even here, but plotting Ginny or Harry's death. His expresions says Dray doesn't have a single regret in life. Except, I'm pretty sure that theory isn't entirely true. The boy extends his right hand towards Ginny.

"I'm Dray," he says, closing the distance between himself and the redhead. I swallow deeply, when the boy's blue eyes turn as gray as a stormy day. What the fuck?

"Go and introduce yourself," Arthur tells me, giving me a shove in the direction where the young man stands.

I take a deep breath, trying to contain my nerves. After all, I'm not this brat's boyfriend. But Harry is... And if I don't do this right, the brat is going to get mad, and if the brat gets mad, Harry gets mad, and if Harry gets mad Molly gets mad.

And if Molly gets mad ... Ugh.

It means she will scold me like any of her other brats.

I take a deep breath, putting one of my hands on Harry's shoulder. My godson immediately turns around and I see the smile that threatens to split his face in half. I give a smile to this boy who stole a part of my heart from the first time Lilly put it in my huge hands and told me not to fear. There was no way for me to hurt Harry.

And even though Harry is here, after introducing me to the person who has turned his world upside down, somehow I can't help but wonder if James and Lilly would be happy about this. Lilly obviously yes, but… James?

"This is Sirius," Harry says to the white-haired boy, as I watch out of the corner of my eye as Molly makes everyone else leave the room to give the three of us some space. "He's almost like my father," Harry scratches the back of his neck and tries to sound friendly. “And then there is Mr. Weasley… Ah. Arthur, he is like a father too,” he tells Dray again, practically stumbling over everything he says. "Sirius was ... uh ... in jail?"

Dray looks at Harry and an amused smile settles on his delicate features. Intelligents, soft eyes settle on Harry.

"Are you asking me or are you telling me?" Dray asks Harry. And yet the boy extends his hand. "I am Dray."

I lower my face and I see it again, the way this child's irises seem to change color. His eyes are not completely blue, but small silver specks swim amid a bluish surface. I take his thin hand between mine and squeeze it, immediately feeling all the danger alarms go off with the single touch. I let go of his hand after that strange contact.

"What precisely is your intention with my godson?" I ask him directly, looking him straight in the eye.

There it is again. That color change in his irises. It is as if he is trying to control a beast within him. It's almost like when Moony is about to transform into a Werewolf.

"I assure you that my intentions are honest," he replies with astonishing serenity. His voice making a chill go down my spine. "I don't mean to hurt Harry or play with his feelings," he tells me, blinking every so often.

"Sirius?" Harry calls me, running a hand in front of my face.

"Ah?" I ask my godson, averting my eyes from Dray's blue depths. "Which did you tell me your last name was?" I ask the boy again, keeping my eyes away from his.

Dray smiles at me.

"Your family is cute, Harry," the boy murmurs, looking at everything around him calmly, until the environment is interrupted by a sound coming from somewhere in the boy's body. "Excuse me, I need to answer this or someone is gonna fired me,” his cheeks flush as he makes his way out the front door.

"Are you sure that boy is Muggle, Harry?" I ask my godson, searching his face for signs of a curse.

"He's a bit angry about Ginny's joke a few moments ago," Harry tells me. And it is understandable. "He's hurt, Ginny's joke hurt him,” Harry tells me, looking towards the balcony of the house, where Dray has a black block stuck to his ear, while talking to it. Maybe. “He is a Muggle, Sirius. There are many things that he still doesn't understand that fascinate him some how and that makes it difficult for him to talk to me, sometimes," Harry answers me, his eyes darkening sadly. “And really, I don't care if I have to explain things to him a million times if that's what he wants, I only care that, for today, he feels comfortable with the people I consider my family. Although, I'm sure Ginny won't make this easy for me or him," Harry crosses his arms, a pout on his lips.

"I'll talk to Ginny," I tell Harry in a serious tone. And I leave him in the living room, looking out where the white-haired boy continues to speak to the black square in his hand, his gestures minimal, but his countenance not so cheerful.

"Have you finished meeting Harry's boyfriend?" Molly asks, handing Ginny a steaming saucepan.

"No, the boy is on the balcony talking to a piece of black square," everyone looks at me, even Arthur.

"It sure is some Muggle invention I don't know about," Arthur says, his eyes twinkling. "Do you think he will show it to me later?"

I smile at Arthur's easiness.

"Gin," I call out to the girl. "Could you not be all over Harry while the boy is here?" I ask the redhead youngest female.

"Why?" Ginny asks me, arranging things on the table. "Should I stop treating Harry the way I always treat him just because the moon elf has self-esteem issues?"

"Just don't be all over Harry," I tell her again. "Harry said the boy doesn't feel so comfortable because Harry is a wizard and he is a Muggle," I tell little Weasley. "Sometimes."

"If he have self-esteem issues, that's not my problem," Ginny replies, setting the table. “If you have a problem with something, you have to fix it. Harry doesn't like people who are weak. That's why he went out with me, because I proved to be stronger than the other girls in our house."

"Ginny," Harry's voice makes us all turn.

The six Weasleys in the kitchen and I, turn to where the blonde is with his huge backpack in hand. The boy's cold gaze flickers from one Weasley to the next.

"Dray," Molly calls him. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry for Ginny's jokes." Molly says quickly, lokking between Harry and his companion.

The boy lowered his eyes momentarily and made a gesture with his lips that reminds me of my own brother. He smiles at the floor and find serenity in it, as if it has soothing properties on the floor.

"Go find me when it's time to eat," the boy says to Harry, settling the huge suitcase on his shoulders. "I need to teach a class."

"I will walk you to the garden," Harry says to Dray, taking his hand in his and guiding him out again. "Will you call us when dinner is ready?" Harry asks politely, but he seems troubled while leaving the kitchen.

Maybe he wants to yell at Ginny. I will not blame him, neither will Molly or any other of the Weasleys.

"Ginevra," Molly Weasley's voice is a whisper that makes me sit up straight. “Stop teasing Harry and his boyfriend. He has been sad and dull for the past three years. And you're engaged to Blaise Zabini, be respectful of the both of them,” Molly pointed at her with the spatula. "Now when Dray returns to eat dinner diner with us properly, I hope you will apologize to him and I hope that apology is sincere."

I look out to where Dray is tucking a brown cello between his legs. The black square looking up at him from a black stand with some sheets, while Harry is sitting under the apple tree watching Dray, who plays the instrument in some moments and speaks to the black square in others. Calm returns to Harry as the conversation between the black square, the blonde and the cello progresses. A smaller but loving smile appearing on Harry's lips, his eyes trained on the blond.

"Does anyone know his last name?" I ask to the nothing.

"Yes, his name is Dray Black," says Hermione, brushing the ash off her clothes and arranging her hair in a messy bun.

Faced with her answer, I choke on my own saliva listening to the boy's last name and seeing in it Narcissa's face and my own brother's gestures.

"I know him," I whisper to nothing, feeling like my head wants to remind me of something I've forgotten. "I know him. He is like Moony," I whisper to no one, but I can hear Molly's gasp.

"Is he a werewolf?" Molly asks.

"No, he is something worst," Hermione says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments and kuddos, and I will be extra happy today and the entire week if you left those for me.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's heart is soaring out to Dray Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, well... I am back. That reminds me that I will be busy for the next week, and maybe the update will be delayed a bit, but not for so much. 
> 
> I hope you all can enjoy this chapter, it is a bit uncommon but I am glad about it.

NOVEMBER 12th, 2002

HARRY

PAST MIDNIGHT

"You really like him," Sirius tells me, standing next to me, as I focus on the blonde and the little pink bundle resting on his arms. “I can see it in your face. It's been a long time since I've seen your eyes shine like this," Sirius stops suddenly. "You actually remind me a lot of James when he was just getting to know your mother."

A smile is renewed on my face, as I lean against the door frame. I imagine my two parents, very much in love with each other, and I am happy to be the testimony that magicians, despite all their strange and magical thoughts, are also capable of change.

"Dad was a pureblood, right?" I asks Sirius, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.

My godfather just nods and gives me a crooked smile. The cool breeze blows through the open window and Molly pauses beside me, her eyes shining with motherly love.

"I'm so happy for you, Harry," she tells me with a huge smile threatening to split her face in half. “I'm glad that after such a long time you are finally smiling and enjoying yourself. After all, you are just a child,” and even though I don't feel like one, I know that for this woman, I will always be the eleven-year-old boy who needed food and love… Lots of love.

"Thanks, Molly," I say leaning forward and wrapping my arms around her. Even when I don't have my original mother here, I'm immensely grateful for the simple fact that I ran into Molly Weasley of all people one autumn afternoon when I wasn't sure how I would get to this weird school: Hogwarts.

In the distance I can hear Dray's voice talking to a Victoire that is exercising her lungs in the most uncomfortable way that can exist for a baby.

"It's amazing that he's still holding Victoire," Molly tells me, pulling away from me. "Even Bill doesn't dare get too close to her when she's in this fussy."

And as I lean back against the door frame, this time with my pseudo mother and my godfather by my side, I realize that I have an invaluable jewel, that a truly beautiful man, both in physique and spirit, has decided to give me a opportunity.

Give us a try.

I watch Dray put a red-faced Voictoire in her rocking chair and take out his cello and then settle in front of her, pushing the chair with the tip of his foot. Victoire lowers the intensity of her crying and falls completely silent when Dray begins to play.

And I can feel it… His magic spreading all over the place. Now that I know the truth about Dray, I wonder how much knowledge Zephora Zambroni has about dark enchantments, and if she has ever encountered such a vile creature as Voldemort.

The calm of the environment makes me return to the real world, where Victoire looks at the blonde with big blue eyes, while putting her thumb to her mouth. Her chair rocking back and forth gently, the sound of Dray's instrument sweet and warm. The same melody repeats over and over again, until I find myself humming it.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Arthur approaching us, as the other Weasleys move silently in the room, each with their eyes on the person who is speaking with his hands. I see Molly resting her head on Arthur's shoulder, as he wraps his arms around her.

And when I return my gaze to the center of the room, Victoirse's eyes begin to close and I can see her breathing deepen until she stops fighting with exhaustion and surrenders to Morpheus's arms. And even though Victoire has already closed her eyes, Dray continues to play for the grumpy little girl. Each song with long, warm notes, and perhaps a little bitter. But, this is not for me, but for the effusive Vicky.

Ten minutes later, Dray sets his instrument aside and lifts Victoire out of her chair, now rocking her with his own arms and walking towards Fleur. Victoire fidgets when she moves from one arms to the next, but after a few seconds she calms down completely.

"That's a great man, Harry," Arthur tells me, loosening his grip on Molly. "I hope that very soon he becomes part of the family."

My heart and spirit feel light, even with the bad jokes and sour comments that Ginny made throughout dinner, I feel happy. Happy that Dray is here with me, when he could be anywhere else, doing anything else. And yet he is here, with me, entering this crazy world where things float and people do magic.

A pale hand moves in front of my eyes and I come back to reality, laying my eyes on the beautiful boy trying to get my attention.

"Are you ok?" Dray asks me, his eyes glinting at me with teasing and something softer.

"Yes," I tell him, taking his hand in mine. "I think we should go, it's midnight after all," I tell Dray, noticing the weariness in his eyes. However, his smile remains firm on his lips.

Molly practically knocks me to the floor with the sudden hug. Dray and I wrapped tightly in the arms of a woman who has so much love that it never seems to end.

"You can come back to have dinner with us whenever you want," she says. "Either to breakfast, or to lunch, or if you just want a drink or talk to someone, or if you just need a hug," Molly is quick to whisper her love into our ears.

"I can't breathe," I tell Molly, feeling the pressure on my ribs.

She pulls away from us and shakes her head gently. And from one moment to the next, her hands gently cup Dray's face.

"I loved meeting you, Dray," she tells him and then leaves a kiss on the cheek of the blonde, who turns as red as Gryffindor scarves.

"Uh ..." I try to hide my laughter as best I can. "Thank you," he finally says and hugs her carefully.

“If you keep hugging like this, I'm going to get jealous,” he let the comment slip and Dray blushed furiously. His cheeks stained a painful red.

"Harry," Molly scolds me and I lose all the composure I'd managed to muster. A loud laugh escaping from my lips.

And yet all I can do is pull Dray towards me and wrap my arms around his.

“Accio Dray’s cello,” and the case zoom to us. Dray wrap his arms around his cello. "Now, I am taking my boyfriend home," I say to them. "Good night Molly, Arthur, Sirius," I say nodding softly. Dray waving at them, and then I close my eyes and imagine my bedroom at Grimauld 21, my new next-to-empty apartment.

"So," Dray says to me, once we are standing in my bedrrom. “Can we change clothes and go to sleep, boyfriend,” Dray tells me and I feel my face growing hot and I am pretty sure I am blushing to the tips of my ears.

“I am sorry about saying it like that,” I mumble a quick but honest apologize. "But I really, really like you," I open my eyes and land on Dray's. Eyes blue like the summer sky stare at me with bright amusement.

"Are you always this insecure of yourself?" he asks me and his question catches me off guard. However, a giggle escapes his lips and his right hand rest on my cheeks. “I like you too Harry. A lot."

I lean in and place a kiss on Draco's forehead.

"Would you be my boyfriend?" I ask him, looking into his eyes. Dray shakes his head. "No?" I feel shocked.

"No. I'm in a very serious relationship with my cello,” he tells me, but I see his playful gaze and I relax. "But, yes Harry," he says stroking my cheek. "I do want to be with you, although Ginevra Weasley has the most acidic comments to give me, I do want to be with you."

I wrap Dray and his cello in my arms.

"I apologize on behalf of Ginny," I tell him softly.

"We can have a really nice love triangle, Harry," he whispers to me. "You, me and the love that we will flourish between us," Dray rests his head on my chest and, suddenly the hippogriffs begin to stomp in my belly. "I don't need you to apologize for her, Harry," he tells me softly. “It doesn't matter if I don't understand half of the things you say when you are talking about magic. I care that you want to explain them to me and I want to learn them. Because in a few years, when you talk to me about your days I want to be able to understand everything, and figure out if you need a hug or if we need to plot the dead of some else. Ginny's comments doesn't bother me, because I really don't care about her, I do care about you, Harry."

And I can feel his entire body relax in my arms.

"Why were you angry?" I ask him, when the silence is enought.

"Rather concerned about Robert Langley, the boy I gave virtual classes to this afternoon," Dray squeezes me into his arms and buries his nose in my neck. “His father is a soldier and he will be coming home soon… Without a leg. Bert was really mad about that and if there's one thing I hate is seeing my kids angry about all the things they can't change,” he whispers against my neck and his breath tickles me. "I wish each and every child in the world had a smile on their faces and that they didn't have to know the evil of the world until they were grown up," for some reason my heart tells me to hold Draco in my arms tighter. And so I do, I press him closer to my chest and let my fingers find his hair. “Bert is convinced that he can fix his dad's heart with a cello song. And I don't have the heart to say no to him."

I feel a lump in my throat and my eyes itch. And although I am the one who is holding Dray physically, it is Dray who is holding a part of my heart that I thought was dead for a long time.

"Do you want to do magic with me?" I ask him softly.

Dray separates his face from my chest and I see his eyes crystallized with unshed tears. His blond head bobs up and down in a gentle nod and immediately, I extract my wand and place it in his hand.

Still holding the cello firmly in his left hand, Dray takes my wand in his right hand and I close mine over his. The tips of my fingers caressing the dark wood.

“You just have to say: Wingwardium Leviosa,” I tell him, remembering the voice of a young Hermione in my head. It's Leviosah, not Leviosa.

Dray nods, his eyes on mine. Facing each other.

"Wingwardium Leviosa," he says firmly. But, a gust of wind comes out of my wand and I see how the mirror in my bedroom fall and crash. "I'm sorry Harry," he says to me and I can see the tears begin to fall from his eyes.

"One more time, love," I tell him, closing the blond's hand over the wood of my wand. "Just... Just believe in yourself," I tell him, wiping a tear from his cheek with my free hand.

Dray takes a deep breath and his eyes close as his grip on my wand tightens. The magic that surrounds us is unlike anything I have ever felt before.

"Wingwardium Leviosa," Dray says, softer this time, but somehow something has changed.

The broken pieces of the mirror float around the room and I can't hide the smile on my lips.

"Congratulations, love," I tell him, as his blue eyes widen showing me specles of smocky grey.

Dray looks around the room and a smile is painted on his lips. And I can't help myself, I lean in and capture his lips with mine, trying to put into that simple act all the feelings that are running in my veins. My tongue carefully tracing Dray's lower lip and his mouth opens, letting me explore as I please.

And the moment ends faster than I wish, and yet I am extremely happy. And I give myself into the moment with my mind, my body, my soul, my heart and my magic. A soft thump alerting me that the instrument has been carried away by my own magic, while Dray wind his hands in my hair.

Something ancient awakens within me and I know this is what Zephora Zambroni had been talking about. The seal on Dray is breaking and my blood is heating up inside my body, prompting me to claim Dray as my own.

No Dray.

"Draco," is all I can whisper before capturing his lips with mine and laying him, tenderly, on my bed.

His eyes brights, as I claim him as mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, here it is, the last update. Sorry guys, but I am not really good at writting sex scenes, so I will not write about that thing in here. 
> 
> I fell in love with this chapter, it was so easy to write it and I am happy with this. 
> 
> Left kuddos and comments. Let me know what you all think.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dray's first contact with a magical creature. Harry doesn't know how to eplain him not everything is as good as it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be delivered on friday, but my internet sucks right now. So, I am actually using the Wi-Fi of my neighbour :) they were kind enough. 
> 
> I hope you can enjoy and forgive me for the delay. It is a bit hard with all the rain that's falling in the country.

NOVEMBER 13th, 2002

HARRY 

Slowly I begin to swim towards the surface where my conscious is and immediately a smile rests on my lips. The night before was practically magical. Never in my entire life have I felt anything like last night. I know I can't really compare sex with others to what happened last night with Draco, as that wasn't just sex.

Last night was something much more than just sex. It was as if my mind, my body, my soul and my magic were in complete sync. And I loved every second of what we did last night, the feeling of having power, of feeling like I can control my magic and knowing that loving is not bad. The feeling of Dray wrapped all around my body, and mine covering his. His kisses sweet and hot and needy at the same. The little moans that scaped his mouth making me feel powerful.

I reach for Dray, but my hand closes on nothing and I open my eyes to realize that I am completely alone in my bed. However, as I sit and look around the room I am convinced that Dray has not left. His clothes are still scattered on the floor of the room.

I stand up and look through my drawers for pants that will accommodate the cold of autumn and go out in search of the blonde.

"Dray!" I call him when I enter the room and I don't see him. The television is off, as is the radio.

I turn and go to the kitchen; but the only thing that receives me is silence. In a moment of panic, I let my magic run wild throughout the house. I immediately feel the magic of my own barriers humming as my magic keeps crashing into some magical items in search for my lover, until I find him. I put on a Weasley jumper and go out to the small patio that the apartment has.

Immediately the warmth of the sun makes me blink and I look forward, where a wall of bushes welcomes me. At first this was just a patio, but with Neville's help and his lack of a places to put his magic flowers, my empty apartment ended up being his little greenhouse.

Now Neville works at Hogwarts, and this place is maintained thanks to Winky, the house elf who helps me to survive on clean underwear and robes without wrinkles or the smell of three-day sweat.

"Everything is going to be fine," I hear Dray's voice speaking softly to something.

With my bare feet I approach him and my heart stops when I see how the blond's index finger descends towards a head with green, blue, light blue and purple feathers.

"Dray, no!" my own voice gets stuck in my throat and comes out as if my intention had only been to scold the blonde.

This animal is ferociuos and... Deadly. 

However, his finger continues on its way and begins to stroke the animal's head. Then his other hand follows him and lifts the little winged snake that can be a meter from the ground.

"Look, Harry," Dray tells me, bringing the animal to his chest. "It is pretty." However, the horned serpent with a bird's beak stands up and looks at Dray. "Don't worry, Harry knows people who are going to make you all good," Dray tells it and then does the unthinkable.

He brings his lips to the creature and leaves a kiss on its beak.

With careful steps I approach the two of them.

“Dray, that's not a dog. Don't kiss him like that,” I tell him in an anguished whisper.

"I've never seen a snake with wings," he tells me. "Besides, I think it feels bad," he says without looking at me. His attention on the animal that is coiled on the palms of his hands. "It wing is broken." I nod gently.

"It's an occamy," I tell him softly. “They are not natives of cold places. Rather, their place of origin is India,” I babble what I've heard Luna say.

"Do you know how to help him... her?" he asks me and looks at me with big eyes full of… something that makes my heart ache.

The same look that makes me want to move heaven and earth just to see him happy.

"Okay," I tell him, giving up. “If we get ready before I have to go to work, I'll take you to a place where they will looked after your pet. I promise,” Dray's gray eyes shine like two stars in the sky and I feel butterflies flutter in my stomach.

"Thanks, Harry," he says to me and stands up, the occamy pressed to his chest for warmth. "You are the best boyfriend in the world," he tells me and stands on tiptoe and leaves a kiss on my cheek.

Immediately, I feel the blood pooling on my face and I draw the blonde towards me with my arms. And I hold him fondly, until the occamy decided it's enough and it stings my arm with its beak.

"Control your little bugger," I tell Dray, pulling away from him, a pained smile settling on the blonde's lips. "Chu. Let's go. Or it will get late and then your bug will have to wait until night to feel better." I see him enter the apartment, the boxes are still scattered around the space.

And I realize that I don't really have furniture, and that this place looks more like I'm getting ready to get out of here than to start living in it.

 _I need furniture_ , I remind myself. _If Dray is going to give us a chance, then I need to provide him with a home._

I hear the shower turn on and I walk into the bedroom, where Dray has left his little winged snake in the middle of our bed. The little annoyance immediately crawls under the covers and rolls up, becoming one with the sheets.

"You are a nuisance," I tell the animal.

"Beautiful," I hear her hiss. "The human with the moon hair."

"How did you get here?" I ask the snake, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Soul of the shadows hurt my Occa," it says and looks at me, sadness shining in his sad green eyes. I immediately remember Fawks and how he healed me in the chamber or secrets. "Red light hitting my wing while moving house."

"What is your name?" I ask, feeling something in my heart ache. This Occamy is now an orphan, as I was.

"What's Name?" it asks me and sticks out its tongue, tasting the air.

"What did your Occa call you?" I ask him in a hiss.

"Nesha," the hiss leaving the occamy makes me tickle. "Like when the sun goes down and the goddess of darkness comes out."

I know you mean the moon.

"You'll be fine and you will be able to go home... Soon," I tell the beast, reaching out my hand and patting its head. "Where it's hotter."

"How do you do it?" Draco asks me and I feel my heart begin to beat strongly in my chest with the shock that I have taken. "Can you teach me?" I smile at the blonde.

"What saying human with moon hair?" the winged animal asks me in a weak hiss.

"It's called Parseltongue and it's the tongue of snakes," I tell Dray, ignoring Occamy. “But, it can't be learned, Dray. It's something certain people are born with.”

Slytherin descendants were born with it.

"Ask him what he can eat," Dray tells me, as he turns around and begins to search for clothes among the only furniture other than the bed in this room. “Really Harry, we have to go buy furniture and paint and pictures for this place. I refuse to wake up in a place that looks like a room that the Adams family belongs to."

I can't help but laugh at Dray's reference and the next second I feel the occamy sting me.

"Dray wants to know what you can eat," I tell the occamy.

"Just cockroaches," it hisses strangely. "Talk is difficult," the winged snake tells me closing its eyes and letting its head fall on the sheet.

"It eats cockroaches," I tell Dray rather than look at him, I hear him sigh and I know he's wrinkling his little profiled nose.

"How will we feed it?" Dray asks me. I turn and see him dressed in a sweater of mine that I have never worn and his jeans from yesterday. "And I want to know if it is a she or a he." 

"Are you a male or a female," I ask the occamy. 

It opens its eyes. "Female. Baby female."

"Its a baby female," I let Dray knows. Then I watch him deliciously wrapped in my clothes. "What underwear are you wearing?" I ask trying to make him blush.

Dray leans in until he's in my personal space.

"Yours, of course, Harry," he says in a purr and I swallow hard. "After all, someone made me wet my underwear last night," he smiles sweetly and I feel my cheeks burn once more.

Dray withdraws from my personal space and borders the bed until he is facing Occamy.

“Being is spirit that the moon leaves to gather souls,” the Occamy hisses.

However, I can't make sense of anything it says. Not while I feel my cock stiffen in the wake of the words whispered by my new boyfriend.

"I'll go shower," I tell him, trying to keep my composure. The last thing I want is for Dray to think that I only love him because he has a nice body and nice eyes. And his magic is delicious… Deliciously intoxicating.

I undress and turn on the shower and let the cold water do its job. Until my erection disappears along with the urge to fold Draco onto the first available surface and mark him as mine.

"No, Harry," I tell myself. "You want him for the way he is, not for the fabulous sex that has ruined you for anyone else." I nod decided and finish spooning myself quickly.

*********************************

"Where do you say you found it?" the witch in the center Scamander asks me.

"It was under a bush, at home," Dray replies, still holding Occamy close to his chest.

"And it didn't bite you?" she asks him. 

I roll my eyes deeply and run my hand through my hair, from my forehead to the nape of my neck.

"It's Harry Potter," says the girl and I immediately feel that the lake inside me is about to send her to hell. Magic thundering inside of me. "Is this your occamy Mr. Potter?"

"Let's go, Dray," I say to the blonde, putting my hands on his shoulders. "I will find someone else who can help Nesha."

"It's Harry Potter," the people around me start whispering my name and Dray looks at them all strangely.

"Why does everyone say your name like you're some kind of Olympian god?" he asks me then he stops. "Or some kind of cult member" he says, looking at me with his gray eyes, full of curiosity.

However, I don't give it much time. I wrap my arms around his delicate body.

"Nesha, wrap around my arm," I tell the occamy and it immediately obeys. "I'll explain you in a moment."

I hug Dray to my body and think about my destiny. And I appear at the edge of the forbidden forest. And there he is, Hagrid with an orde of third-year kids.

"It's Harry Potter," the murmur begins again and Dray chuckles beside me.

"Kids, class is over now," says Hagrid. "If you are late, Professor McGonagall will punish you," I hear Hagrid's booming voice and I can't help but smile, remembering when it was me who was trying to stay so I wouldn't go to McGonagall's classes.

"Right, Hermione said you're a celebrity," the blonde tells me, his eyes shining with amusement. "And that someone disliked you for being more handsome than her or his?"

Maybe because I do have a nose? But with Voldemort you never know.

“I also remember thousands of people standing up to applaud a certain blonde after performing a solo,” I tell him seriously. However, I don't feel uncomfortable or upset.

“Anyone would clap after a beautiful rendition of Panis Angelicus,” he tells me with a bright smile on his lips. "On the other hand, I still don't know what you have done."

"I only survived a curse," I tell him with a shrug.

"Which one?" Dray asks me.

"Aveda Kedavra," I tell him.

"Aren't those the magic words to open doors?" and Dray's innocence and naivety make me fall a little more in love with him.

No one will ever harm this beautiful blonde while I am alive.

"That's right, love," I reply. "Only when you're a wizard and you have a wand, it only works to kill anything that has a heartbeat," I tell him and Draco stops. Nesha looking at us both.

His hands immediately land on both sides of my face.

"You died?" he asks me in disbelief and pain clouding his gaze. “This is just an illusion? Are you not real?"

I raise my free hand and wipe the tear that has escaped from his eyes.

"No love. It's not a dream or an illusion,” I tell him, stroking his cheek.

"Why cry moon haired human?" Nesha asks me, spreading its body and hitting its head against the blonde's cheek.

“It's okay, Nesha. He's fine,” I tell the occamy before he can attack me. “I survived, love. I am not an illusion or a ghost. My mom's love was what made me survive,” I tell Dray and lean in and touch his forehead. And in seconds, my arms are full of warm, soft body, as his arms close around my torso.

"I just need to check that you are real," he says and pulls away from me, then stands up, "Don't be a dream, please," and his lips rest on mine. And this is more intense than last night, much more intense than last night. More fiery. Innermost.

"I'm real and I'm not going anywhere," I tell Dray. “Now, don't cry. We better take Nesha to someone who can help her, ”I tell Dray, guiding him towards Hagrid's little house, where there are still a couple of Ravenclaws around the place.

"Harry," Hagrid greets me and then her eyes land on the blonde next to me. "And who is this boy?" Hagrid asks. "He's not from Hogwarts, that's for sure. I would remember."

"How are you Hagrid?" I ask him and raise my arm. "This is Nesha and she needs a little help," then I point to Draco and clasp our hands. “And this is Dray Black. He is not from Hogwarts, right."

"Exactly, because I studied at Aiglon," Dray tells him.

"Where is that?" Hagrid asks in a good mood.

"In Switzerland," Dray replies, oblivious as always.

"I didn't know there was a community of wizards in Switzerland," Hagrid says thoughtfully.

"Excuse me," Dray speaks to the half-giant. "Could you help her?" he asks, while looking at Nesha and stroking her head with his index finger. "I don't know what's wrong with her… But, I want her to get better."  
Nesha looks tired, but she still opens her eyes every time Dray caresses her.

"An Occamy," Hagrid says with both surprise and admiration. "Fearsome creatures the Occamies."

“It is not scary. She is beautiful and feels very bad. Her wing snapped,” says Dray, touching said spot hurting and earning a glare from the little beast. "Forgive me, it was not my intention."

"Moon-haired human in pain," Nesha hisses. "Snake human, help moon-haired human."

"He's fine. He is just sorry," I tell Nesha. "Can you help her?" I ask Hagrid and immediately the half-giant nods and ushers us into his house.

I see Hagrid searching through his shelves and he suddenly stops.

"Rock cakes?" Hagrid asks.

"No," I say softly and quickly.

"Yes," Dray says immediately with a smile on his face. “After you heal Nesha. She is very sick."

Dray doesn't know what is signing up for.

Hagrid nods and keeps searching until he returns with a small vial of white liquid and a little thick, perhaps, and walks over to the Occamy, who immediately goes on alert.

"It's okay, Nesha," Dray tells her. "He just wants to help." Nesha sticks closer to Dray. "I promise you that I will not let anyone hurt you."

Nesha looks at me and I just smile and nod. The occamy throws her body forward, but once Hagrid tries to touch her, Nesha leans back and looks at him like he's ready to attack her.

"Harry," he says and hands me the bottle of dittany.

“It will only take a moment, Nesha. You'll be better,” I tell her, dipping my finger into the foul substance that is dittany and gently touching the snake's wing. "See? Everything is fine."

And everything is fine, until it is no longer.

"Hagrid how many times..." But, the person who has entered the small place as if he were the owner. "Potter," he looks at me and I feel sick just looking at him. However, his eyes leave me and land on the blonde.

And I can see recognition in his dark eyes. The eyes of a Death Eater that has seen the person Voldemort has been searching. 

Fuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left comments and kuddos they makes my life better.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione presents Harry with a new discovery. Harry start healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Happy Mother's Days to you all whom are mothers. 
> 
> This is here a bit late but I am happy nonetheless. I have been at hospital recently, but i think I am doing better now.

November 14th, 2002

HARRY

"I'm telling you the truth, Hermione," I tell my best friend again, as I circle in the middle of the auror office. "Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater and part of Voldemort's close circle saw Dray and recognized him."

Hermione rolls her eyes.

"Harry, no one apart from us, Kingsley and the guardians of Dray himself know who he really is..." she tells me, fixing her black robes. "Besides, there's something I want you to see," Hermione tells me, as she drags Ron and me downstairs where the Minister's office and the Unspeakables headquarters are.

"Why are you bringing us to the dungeons?" Ron asks, taking a bite out of his egg sandwich. “Time for lunch, Mione, not work,” he tells her as if that would make Hermione stop dragging us through the halls like she was our jailer and we were some kind of criminal who didn't deserve freedom.

"Ronald," she chides him and Ron doesn't even pay the slightest bit of attention to her tone of voice as he follows her through the dark hallways. "This is necessary for us to know if we want to win the war against Voldemort," she says in such a serious tone that it makes me feel bad immediately. “Harry is not going to defeat him alone. That wasn't what the prophecy we took from Nott's hands when we were in high school said."

Yes, this same place was where a magical duel took place, in which Bellatrix Lestrange ripped a part of Sirius's neck and Martha Yowle was sucked into the veil. I can still hear the smirk as she cursed Sirius and watched him bleed on the dark cold black floor.

"Now while we're there, everyone should stay calm," and she looks at me, as if for some strange reason I'm going to break someone's neck. "And I am serious, Harry."

I focus exclusively on blinking because I'm not really sure nodding or shaking my head is a good idea. At least not when Hermione directs threats like that at me. I prefer to reserve my answer and act based on how things develop.

Hermione takes my silence as a yes and I refrain from adding anything else or correcting her, as she guides us through dark and dimly lit corridors.

"I need you to keep quiet," she tells us once again, her voice a slight sigh laden with seriousness. "It is not that I have permission to be in this place precisely."

I look up at Ron and his blue eyes move away from his wife's body to mine and I can see the concern in them. Most of the times we were in trouble at Hogwarts it was more than anything from Hermione's curiosity and desire to know things, rather than the fact that Voldemort was smart and could come up with plans to trap me.

Ron nods and I follow.

"Okay, ‘Mione," I tell her, taking a deep breath. "We will keep silent."

Ron nods again and I watch him glue the Auror robes to his body, seeking warmth. If there is something that the dungeons of the Ministry have, it is very cold. No spells really work down here except those that are Unspeakable level, which makes it practically impenetrable.

And all this because of the prophecy that was lost to Nathan Nott.

"Being down here brings back bad memories," Ron mutters and I'm really not far from wanting to turn on an extra light with my wand, just in case something is about to happen.

"I said be quiet," Hermione says in a serious tone, her eyes accusing us. She resumes the march and we follow behind her like the good friends that we are, or perhaps it is more due to the fact that no one wants to get lost in the Unspeakables level.

Usually when the aurors work with them, those who wear black robes rise to the surface, to the floors where all the other people in colored robes work.

I swallow hard, just remembering what happened one floor below.

"It's here," Hermione tells us, as she opens the door with her wand and immediately gets the scare of my life.  
It is like being in front of the veil once more, however, this is different. It feels different. It feels like something I already know.

"What is this place, Hermione?" I ask, stopping in front of the huge blue river that seems to pass objects between its currents.

"This, Harry," Hermione begins solemnly. “This is Narcissa Black's consciousness. Each of the objects that flow through this river have a memory of her life, while she was alive, and others belong to her memories of when she was dead. "

"A dead woman cannot have memories, Hermione," says Ron, touching an object and holding it in his hand. "But, this is tangible."

"Don't touch it like that, Ronald," Hermione tells him, who immediately reaches up to take the object from Ron's hands. “Besides, that's new. Hardly formed yesterday."

I stop to look at the object, they are a pair of small celestial wings with golden edges.

"All that is in gold are memories that Narcissa acquired in some form during the period that she has been dead," says Hermione. "Or at least, our data says that."

"Who is investigating this?" Ron asks, looking but not touching.

"Blaise Zabini, Reena Shacklebolt and myself," Hermione tells us seriously.

Out of curiosity I reach out and touch the golden wings that Hermione said formed yesterday. If this is the memory of Narcissa Black… Who is giving her new memories?

My fingertips touch the object and the feeling of being in the presence of someone I know intensifies.

"How did you get the memory of Narcissa Black?" I ask in a whisper, gently turning the wings with the help of my fingers, without taking them out of the constant stream that is the memory of Narcissa Black.

“Reena Shacklebolt said that after Kingsley, her husband, awakened Narcissa's portrait, and days passed a sphere opened. The sphere formed the day after she woke up. However, the river formed a couple of nights ago."

"How many nights ago?" Ron asks like the good auror that he is.

I let go of the golden wings and look up at the huge ocean that is the memory of Narcissa Black. Objects that don't really make sense float in the middle of the celestial currents that remind me of the story of the River Lett in Hades.

"Just two nights ago," Hermione replies and my eyes return to a strange object.

"What are the ones that glow with golden light?" I ask Hermione.

She shrugs.

"We don't really know Harry," she replies and bites the inside of her cheek. “We cannot assure that they are new memories, but neither that they are old memories. Only a couple of those objects have accessibility, so to speak,” Hermione tells us, reaching for a bottle. "This is one of those memories that you can see." And she touches it and puts her whole hand inside it.

Immediately, the object moves away from the others and a celestial light is projected and people begin to form and I see Narcissa Black, a little plumper, sitting on a chair, her hand on the tummy that begins to become noticeable between her robes .

"I assure you, Regulus," her voice escapes her lips and fills the entire room. "He promised me that he would change and that our baby would be fine," a smile appears on her pale, tired face.

"Stop worrying about those things, Cissy," the curly black-haired young man tells her. “You are four months pregnant. The only thing that matters is that you sleep and eat, and walk regularly,” he tells her, waving his wand from one side to the other. "Now, what about some food, huh?" and a bright smile rests on Regulus's lips. "I brought mashed potatoes and steamed fish," I see Regulus make a face.

"I know it smells awful," Narcissa tells him.

"Well, I'd look for things that smell awful, as long as it ensures that you and that little guy eat enough to be healthy, both of you," he says and takes a plate full of puree and fish with lots of sauce. "Just be healthy," Regulus says to Narcissa, setting the plate on her lap and stroking the woman's cheek. “I will take care of you both. Always."

Narcissa smiles at him and takes his hand and squeezes it with hers gently.

"I know so, Reggie," and then he kisses the other's cheek. "Thank you."

"And what are you going to call it?" he asks her, while he conjures a blanket and puts a thick blanket over her.

"Draco," she whispers softly. “If it's a boy, his name will be Draco. And if it is a girl, it will be called Adhara,” she says softly. "But, for all the trouble it gives me at night, hI am sure its name will be Draco for sure." Says the black-haired woman with affection. "And the tradition will continue, Regulus."

The memory vanishes and the object Hermione had touched, a potato, returns to the ocean of objects. I watch with curiosity as the wings that I had touched a few minutes ago flap again towards the surface and I reach out my hand, doing the same as Hermione.

The object descends and the celestial light unfolds.

"It's true, Harry," Draco's voice fills the room and I twist my neck at the memory. Draco is sitting on a log in the middle of a clearing. His shoulders covered by my own jacket.

And suddenly, I see myself in the memory. Dray's eyes look at me as if he wanted to explain all the things that I didn't know at the time, and that the blonde was gently sharing with me.

"Santa Claus doesn't exist," the memory-Harry says to the blonde again. "It's just something parents make up for kids to behave."

The Dray of the memory sticks out his tongue at me.

"Of course there is some true to it, Harry," he tells me in a serious tone. "And I am!" says the blonde, waving his arms wildly. “When I dress up as Santa at Christmas, I become Santa, because I continue to keep his spirit alive and his desire to do good. I may be the shortest Santa in the universe, but I assure you that the children in that hospital care very little if I am the shortest in the world. And I swear to you Harry, nothing is more precious to me than seeing them smile... Or you,” his voice is so calm, I feel like we are having our first date once again.

Because I could never forget that moment. That moment when I realized that the world needed more people like Dray than people like Harry. Because that night I realized, that Dray Black would do anything to put a smile on a child's face and that if Harry Potter child had met a Dray in his childhood, he would not be so damaged. So broken. 

And that same night I realized, that the twenty-two-year-old Harry Potter was also extremely lucky, because, even if it was many years later, Harry Potter had found someone who wanted to spend time with him, just for the simple fact of being Harry and not The boy who lived.

That was the night I made the decision to stop being a victim of the world and be a hero to the world. Not for the world, but for me. Because I wanted to keep dating this guy and keep listening to his laugh and know his mind, body and soul as if it were my own, and let everything good that exists inside him change everything bad that is inside me, and it will heal the pain that years and years of abuse left in my heart.

"Now hold me, I'm freezing to death," I hear Dray's voice again and I lift my eyes to see how the blonde falls to Harry-memory's side. His head on his shoulder, while the wind plays with his hair and Harry Potter… Harry Potter is smiling, after many years.

The celestial screen closes and the wings return to the ocean of objects.

"Was his mom on your first date, mate?" Ron asks with big eyes.

I look at my two best friends.

"Harry was able to open a gold-colored object," says Hermione. "Maybe only Harry can open the missing ones."

However, I'm not quite sure that Hermione is right about what she's saying. It doesn't feel like it works like this ... Whatever this is, it feels more like I'm having a conversation with Narcissa Black then anything else.

However, I stick with that thought and keep my hands close to my body.

"Wow, it must be amazing to have this kind of power," says Ron.

"I don't think so, Ron," I tell him seriously. “This doesn't feel natural. It feels like someone wearing Legilimency on your head."

And I know how it feels, after all, I took classes with Snape all summer.

"Harry?" Hermione calls me, as an object flies back towards me. It's a very small sweater and I reach out my hand and the light unfolds.

Narcissa appears in front of me and I see her holding a little Dray with pointy ears.

"My little boy," Narcissa says lovingly. "You carry your father's legacy in your eyes and in your hair," she tells him, stroking his hair. "And you carry your mother's legacy in your name and in your power," she says, while she passes a sweater over the little white head. "One day my little boy, you will conquer hearts," she says stroking his cheek. Huge blue eyes look at her from below, while a small hand reaches up. “With your power you will make them change, because my little one, wars are not won on battlefields. Wars my beautiful prince, are won in hearts. Great temples that guard secrets and the soul and heart of those who rules,” she twhispers to the boy, lifting him into her arms and cradling his little silver head against her chest. “If one day you want to win a war, my precious prince, remember that you must first seek strength in your heart and you will have to draw your strongest weapons: affection, tolerance, honor and respect. Those will be the weapons you will use to win wars, my boy,” she leaves a kiss on the boy's forehead. "Love can do everything my child, because loving is a decision and conviction is the only thing we need to change the world."

Baby Dray smiles at Narcissa, as he takes a lock of her mother's black hair and begins to pull it.

"I know my little Dragon, you are sleepy and Mommy keeps talking about life advice," she carefully opens the small hand until her hair is released. “But, one day, you will need to remember this Dray. Never forget it,” and she begins to sing to the little boy, until seconds later, Dray closes his huge blue eyes and falls into Morpheus's arms. “Remember it my boy. Wars are won in people's hearts."

And the object in which the memory was is broken into pieces and disappears.

"What happened?" Ron asks, looking at how nothing remains of that memory.

"What happened, Mr. Weasley, is that Narcissa already gave you an answer to win this war?" I hear Kingsley's voice.

"But, Draco hasn't seen her," I say, feeling disappointed. As an orphan, I know how difficult it is to lose things that belonged to your parents, especially memories.

Kingsley smiles at me.

"Don't worry, Harry," Kinsgely tells me. "The only messages that must be delivered are those that serve to lift the recipient out of ignorance," a smile rests on the dark lips of the Minister for Magic. "You think Draco doesn't know? Do you think Draco is not aware that only good conquers evil, but does not end up harming the lives of others, but rather by blowing life into a soul that is about to die? " his dark eyes look inside me and I feel naked. “Isn't that what that kid does every day? Isn't that what you've started to do since you've been with him? " I feel my eyes fog up and a lump clogs my throat. "This message was not for Draco, Harry," he tells me softly. “It was for you, because Narcissa is entrusting you with her child's life and heart,” his words are sincere. "And I know better than anyone, because she was my best friend. And I've always known about Draco and what he is. And I have protected him, along with hundreds of other people who left their lives as magicians behind to ensure that the one who would change the outcome of the war will come to full maturity,” Kingsley's words leave me cold. "And that moment has come, Harry," he tells me softly. "You have Narcissa's blessing to woo her child, your soul mate."

I tilt my head and look up at Narcissa Black's silhouette, her loose hair dancing to the rhythm of an invisible wind. Her smiling lips and bright eyes, both directed towards me.

"I promise I will take care of him," I tell Narcissa.

"That's not what I want from you, Harry Potter," the silver-colored figure tells me. "What I want is for you to promise me that you will try to love him and that even when bad days come, you will remember the reasons why you decided to accept him in your life," she tells me, as her long dress flutters around her body.

"But, we are soul mates," I tell him not understanding.

"I had a soul mate once too, Harry Potter," she tells me softly, but her eyes are sad. "And that didn't stop him from leaving or cutting off my boy's ears," she tells me in a whisper laden with pain. "Or shutting me with a curse."

And it is too much, my heart aches for all that this woman had to live. And for all that Dray has had to live without her by his side. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders.

"I promise you to remember in the bad days the reasons why I decided to be by his side, and I promise to relive the good moments over and over again, until they turn into light during the dark moments," I say with a heartache inside my chest. “And I promise you that I will love him, as he loves all living beings that exist on this planet, even if those beings are over a meter tall and are the most lethal things in the world, I promise that I will love him as Dray loves. And although not every day I can love him one hundred percent, I swear that I will try and I will never let anyone take him away from my side. I will give him reasons every day to love... To love me.” I tell Narcissa and feel the tears welling up in my eyes. This is so overwhelming that it feels like a physical burden. “I promise you that I will fight my own darkness to keep us both in the light. But, I also assure you to keep Dray in the light, where he can be safe. I trust in his strength, and I am sure that if I ever lose myself in the dark, he will come find me and we will be together again, and we will continue forward, even if there are bad days."

"I lift the seal that Voldemort put on you, Harry Potter," she tells me, as the light intensifies around her. "You who have been half feeling the world, who have been asleep and half dead since that day," she says to me and her eyes sharpen. “You will awake to the reality of your own power, the power that Lilly Evans left you and which was stolen from you by greedy hands,” she tells me with blooming voice. "I, Narcissa Black, break the seal that Voldemort once placed on you, and restore the power that was denied to you when you lost your parents, so that you can defeat Voldemort and heal."

I close my eyes as the lump that had been blocking my throat begins to fade as the pain within my own heart grows weaker.

"Now, Harry Potter," she tells me. "Healing is up to you."

And the silhouette of Narcissa Black disappears along with the celestial ocean that is her memory. Just a tiny bright light blue sphere is left floating in the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left kuddos and comments, they make my day and makes me feel happy!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Lucius are remembering, for old times sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I am posting today because finals xD and yeah, I did good in them. 
> 
> You can follow me on Instagram @GreeneySilvery
> 
> Yei, now enjoy of this... Chapter.

November 15th, 2002

Lucius

"I'm telling you, Severus," I tell my best friend, as I keep pacing the only peaceful room in my house. The observatory. "It was him, in company with Potter."

  
I hear Severus sigh deeply, while his dark eyes look at me in pain.

  
"Did he recognize you?" the professor of positions asks me, as he stops in front of me.

  
"See it with your own eyes, Severus," I tell him, lifting mine and looking into his.

  
"Legilimens," Severus whispers, his hand barely touching his wand.

  
I feel him sailing through my mind, until his presence stops, like a huge wall of ice. And in front of me, I see again the little baby that I did not have the guts to kill, who in return I cut off his ears to have a memory to offer to the person who wanted to kill him.

  
The wall of ice retreats from my head, and Severus' dark eyes stare at me in pain.

  
"Lucius, my friend," he says putting his hand on my shoulder. "Stop tormenting yourself."

  
Severus has always been a man of few words, and the few he says can shake your soul. And this is why I consider him my friend, this man has saved me more times than I can count. He has saved me even from myself.

  
"He's already quite a man, Severus," I tell him without mentioning my beautiful son's name. "He resembles my beloved in the way he looks, in his smile, and in his compassion," I wipe a treacherous tear away and flop into a seat. "Can you believe I found him in Hagrid's shambled hovel with an Occamy coiled in his hands, while Potter was helping him?"

  
Severus smiles at me.

  
"So he's already a man," Severus tells me, sitting next to me and looking forward. "My godson is quite a man."

I look down thinking of everything I would have liked to do for him.

  
"I would have brought the world down for him, Severus," I tell my friend, looking down at an old necklace. The necklace I gave Narcissa the day we got married.

  
After a long time, after overcoming the rejection caused by her soulmate, the youngest of the Black sisters decided to give me a chance.

  
"I remember my wedding with Cissy like it was yesterday, Sev," I tell him, conjuring up a glass of whiskey. "I still remember her dark eyes looking into my soul the day we got married," I look down at the floor, thinking of all we could have experienced together. "If only..." I lift my eyes and look to where the necklace rests. “If only Sibyl Trilauny had kept her mouth shut. If only she hadn't spoken of our son in the presence of Dumbledore."

My hand closes over the whiskey glass and it breaks into thousands of pieces.

"Shut up, Lucius," Severus tells me. "You need to block and store these thoughts," Severus tells me and I know he's right. “You did what you thought best. You gave your blood the opportunity to live away from the pain he would have endured if he had been your rightful heir."

  
"Narcissa wasn't supposed to die, Severus," I tell him, wiping away the tears that keep escaping my eyes. "She was supposed to live."

  
My best friend's hand rests on my shoulder and I feel the affectionate squeeze.

  
"Lucius," he tells me seriously. “I know you didn't mean to make your son or your wife bleed. But, you did the right thing,” he tells me, conjuring an ancient crystal. “This dust is your flesh and blood. That flesh that turned into dust, Lucius, is what has allowed your child to live a normal life and be filled with love and nurtured with mercy and pity, it is what has allowed him to be what this cursed world needs," he tells me, kneeling in front of me. "While it's true that Cissy decided to give her life to make everything easier, you also have to acknowledge your truth, Lucius."

  
I can't help the sob that comes out of my lips, while I feel like my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces again.

  
"And what truth is that, Lucius?" I ask him, raising my eyes and trying to focus on him. “The truth that I disfigured my son? The truth that Sectumsephra did irreversible damage to Cissy? The truth that I was too cowardly to hand over my son to Regulus Black, without even turning back?"

  
Severus' eyes fill with anger and he shakes me so hard, I feel like my brain is swelling, and yet it doesn't compare to the pain I feel in my own heart. The pain, the guilt, the remorse of all these years. Of not knowing about my son, of living in anxiety, in fear that Voldemort might find him and give him a fate worse than death.

  
In my own pain remembering my wife's broken and bleeding body, telling me that we would have a life later.  
But when?

  
"Are you listening, Lucius?" I fix my gaze on his and see my pain reflected in his eyes. “Everything we did, we did for him. Our acts of torture, our betrayal to Narcissa, our disdain and our feigned arrogance, it was all so that he could live Lucius,” he tells me and I can feel the effort he is making to keep his voice intact. "We haven't failed him, or Cissy," he tells me through a clenched jaw. “He lives and it may be that Narcissa is dead, and that you and I have been nothing but earth-walking dead, Lucius. But, he lives. He lives and he already knows Potter and no one could stop that event,” tears fall from Severus's eyes. “You, Dumbledore and I, we have been nothing but the dead who walk the earth, but there is little left. Because he is next to the person he should be with, and you and I can rest, Lucius. We just have to hold out a little longer, and then when they win, you and I can rest and cry and apologize to our dead wives, and our orphaned children. But, first we have to resist if we want to leave them a world and a future in which they can live peacefully and happily. First, we have to be strong, so that they can do what we couldn't."

  
Without thinking twice, I hug the man who has been more than a traveling companion and pain, the one who has been more than a friend. My family.

  
"It's okay, Severus, I will do as you are saying" I tell him and Narcissa's sky blue silhouette appears in front of us.

"Aileen and I will be waiting for our loves once this is over," she tells us both, her hands hovering over our bodies. "Hold on a little longer, for our children," she tells us. "We have not left you out of love, but if you dare to return without making sure they are all ok..." I can hear her threat clearly. 

  
Severus laughs next to me.

  
"Cissy," I whisper her name like a prayer.

  
"My time is up, it's about dawn," she smiles at us both. "Goodbye, my prince. Severus, take care of this fool. You were always the smartest once."

"Cissy," he called back to her in a whisper.

  
"Voldemort know about Harry Potter, it's only a matter of time until he find my boy. They are together, they are soulmates," she tells us both. "Get ready, the worst is yet to begin."

  
Severus looks at her, but he doesn't smile at her, he just nods. And once her silhouette disappears, the pain returns.

  
"We'll be ready, Cissy," I whisper like a promise. As my eyes rise to the sky and the sun begins to erase the vestiges of the moon with each passing minute. "And then, when all this is over, I will be with you again, to live the life we didn't get the chance to live in order to keep our child alive." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left comments and kuddos, they make my day all better!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is happy, Dray is still not affraid of animals he doesn't know a thing about, but Harry's heart is breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I am early for about a few hours. Here's the chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy with turkey :9 bread and hot chocolate.

NOVEMBER 20th, 2002

HARRY

"Excuse me," I stop in front of the man who is sitting in a chair, outside the theater where Dray said he would be. The man looks up and smiles at me. "Do you know where I can find this?" and I hand him the piece of paper that Dray left for me this morning.

The man reads it and smiles at me.

“They started half an hour ago, but it's not open to the public,” he tells me and gives me a smile. "I don't think they will take much longer. There are a few prodigies playing in there."

I smile at the man, nodding gently and leaning back against the wall. Up to here we listen to the music that rather than relax, reminds me of battles and then, a few minutes later, I can almost perceive the sea breeze caressing my hair.

Until the music stops and everything goes silent.

"What is your name?" I ask the man sitting next to me, while I look at him.

"Brett, Brett Collins," he says with a simple smile, his pale eyes peeling off his papers momentarily. "And yours, young man?"

The question takes me by surprise and I force myself to remember that this is not the magical world.

"Harry," I extend my hand and he receives it. "Harry Potter."

The man smiles at me.

"Good to meet you, Harry Potter," he tells me softly. "Do you like music?"

It takes me a few seconds to figure out the truth.

"I had not had contact with music in most of my life," I tell him, finding pain and a bitter truth behind my own words. "Recently, I have been brought up in the most loving way, perhaps."

But then, Dray is nothing more than a ball of love and energy that cannot be easily contained.

"What is your favorite piece so far?" he asks me, putting his papers aside.

"Panis Angelicus?" however, I am not quite sure and that is reflected in my voice.

"Excellent piece," the man tells me.

"Harry!" Dray's voice immediately causes the horde of hippogriffs to start raging in my stomach.

Dray's hair has grown out since we first spoke to each other and now, it curls neatly around his ears. From this distance I can see the black sleeve of his cello and the pile of heads that are on it.

"Hey," I glue him to my body once he's in front of me and left a kiss on the crown of his head. And the moment ends too soon for my liking. "Ready?" I ask him.

I peel off him and see his gray eyes begin to glow with amusement.

"Always," he tells me with a smile on his lips.

"Dray," the male voice causes Dray to turn in the direction of the sound. And I see how the man extends his hand to the blonde. "Excellent work today," he says, shaking the blond's hand. "Take care of these little hands, I doubt that there are others like them around here," says the man, shaking his hand one last time and releasing him.

"I will do as you are saying, Mr. Zimmerman," the blonde replies and then turns to whoever welcomed me minutes ago. "See you tomorrow, Director Collins," he says and takes my hand in his. "Come on, I'm starving."  
I hear Mr. Collins laugh.

"That kid is always hungry," is the last thing I manage to whisper before Dray starts dragging me toward the exit.

"See you tomorrow, Black," says another blond, setting a small suitcase on his back. "Excellent work," he tells her.

“It's always good to work with a prodigy like you, Rossi,” Dray tells him and I see who Dray called Rossi blush through the roof.

"You are the prodigy, I hadn't forget how you stealed the prize away from me in the juniur cathegory when we were just kids," but he is still smiling at my boyfriend. "Give my greetings to your papa," and then he is laughing his arse off and Dray blush prettily.

And I am jealous.

"Good bye guys." Dray manages that sentense and he squeezy my hand in his. "I am never going to outlive that fucking day." He says, his eyes shinning with tenderness.

And those who are still outside the theater greet him, as we head towards the nearest train station.

"And what were you doing today?" I ask him, squeezing his hand in mine.

"Just recording," he tells me, shrugging. "Tomorrow should be the last day of recording."

"And when will I be able to listen to your work?" I ask him, feeling curious.

"In June of the following year when the movie comes out," he tells me while smiling at me. "Now, have you thought about what kind of furniture you want in your apartment?"

"Our," I tell him without thinking and Dray looks at me lovingly. "You know? Molly once told me that love was something you could see in people's eyes and she believed it was a lie, until today."

Dray blushes and I am extremely happy to make him blush. And yet it is his movement that amazes me.  
Her lips caress my cheek. And I don't let him go, I stick him to me making a Notice-Me-Not wrap us both and I show up on the outskirts of Diagon Alley.

"Did you do that trick that helps you get everywhere early?" Dray asks me, as he detaches himself from me and looks at the wall in front of us. "Where are we?" he asks me inspecting the wall with her hands.

"At the entrance to Diagon Alley," I tell him, as I pull out my wand and begin to press certain blocks with it.

And I feel it for the first time. It is as if the magic within you whispers which ones to press.

"Is that some kind of entrance to a cult you are part of?" Dray asks me, standing next to me, waiting. Until the bricks begin to move around and rotate on their axes to form a kind of arc. "Amazing."

"Yes, I am part of the cult of the lossers," I tell him joking, partially. "Come on then," I say, taking his hand in mine and feeling happy because it's me who has put a smile on his lips again.

If Voldemort felt this way the first time he tasted the power, it is no surprise that he seeks to dominate the entire world. Yet that makes me wonder: How can love give you the same sense of power as hate? Are they the same, or is there a difference?

"Can we eat something first?" Dray asks me, looking at the witches and wizards around him. "There's some kind of magical sweet I should try?"

Damn. He is too cute for my own good.

"Before that, let me help you," I tell him, watching the way witches and wizards look at him alike. I extend my hand to ask for his cello, but Dray gently shakes it, causing the hair that falls on his forehead to move with him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Harry, but this cello is my responsibility, besides, it's a part of me," he tells me in a low voice.

"Okay," I tell him, while pointing my index finger forward. "Over there is the ice cream parlor that UK witches and wizards frequent the most," I say, taking his hand. "But, before you go," I tell him, pulling out my wand and putting a spell on his hair, making streaks of light blue and aquamarine appear and intermingle with his usual silver hair.

"Great," he tells me, once he sees himself in a mirror that I have conjured for him. "I should dye it like this."

"I actually was expecting a tantrum for messing up with your hair," I confess him.

"Do I look like some kind of old man with a stick stuck up to his butt?" he tells me, crossing his arms and lifting his nose in the air.

I laugh at Dray's witticisms and antics, then begin to guide him to Florean Fortescue.

"They are the best ice creams I have ever had, I assure you," I tell him, as I walk beside him.

We pass in front of Eyloops, and I have to stop in my footsteps.

"What's going on?" I ask him and look where Dray is looking.

"Look Harry, magical pet food," he tells me as if he has found a gold mine. "Come on," and he starts pulling me inside, looking for roaches. "Hurry up, before it dissapears."

"Dray, the store won't go away," I tell him, trying to slow him down.

"It's a magic store, of course it can go away," he tells me as if that is the most logical thing in the world. "Come on, before the same thing happens to the wall."

I shake my head gently. Pacience blooming in my chest.

"Harry Potter," is the first thing the girl who serves the shoppers says. "What I can help you with?"

I smile at the girl like Hermione taught me.

"I need food for a baby Occamy," I tell her, looking at the cages and remembering Hedwig.

"A-an Occamy?" she asks me and suddenly her eyes land on Dray.

The blond is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. His energy practically cannot be contained by his own body, just like his magic. His magic is growing stronger the most we spent time together and sooner then latter, I will have to chatt with Zephora about Dray's well being.

An owl flies up to him, its night-black plumage and amber-yellow eyes, it appears to be examining the shoulder of the new human in the tent. The owl hoots softly and then its head crashes softly against the blonde's cheek.

"I love you too," Dray tells it, stroking its plumage. "You're cutest of all," Dray tells the owl, his index finger on the black owl's crown. "If I knew that Nesha would not try to eat you, I would take you home with me."

The owl looks at him and hits the blonde's cheek with its little head again.

"Over here are the bags of food for Occamies," says the girl, pulling me out of my own contemplation.  
I nod gently.

"I'll be back now," I tell Dray, as I watch him stop in front of a terrarium full of rats.

Dray's blue eyes snap away from the rat and land on me. He nods gently and I leave him there, to accompany the lady.

"I didn't know you had an Occamy, Mr. Potter," she tells me, her cheeks turning red.

"It's not mine, it's his," I tell her and point my chin at Dray. "And he's still not used to the British wizarding world."

"Oh, I see," she says and tucks her hair behind her ear.

Some people will flirt with you Harry, for some reason Hermione's voice echoes in my head and I pay attention to her. Don't be rude to them. It's okay?

I smile at the girl, thinking that is the only way not to be rude to her right now. I feel weird, like I want to yell at her for looking at me so much and blushing for everything I say. Although it is not the first time, I know that I must listen to Mione. The last thing I want is for the wizarding world to have reasons to follow Voldemort, being a half blood, it is very easy for me to know that I will give reasons to pure bloods to feed lies to other wizards and end up losing a crusade that I could have won and will win.

The prophecy does not say who will win or who will live. It only says that the other will not be able to find peace, as long as his counterpart lives.

And it is true. Since I've known about Voldemort, I haven't had a single year of peace. However, here is the person who has the power to defeat Voldemort or give him more power, although I still don't really understand how. Zephora said that Dray could give Voldemort a new body and Narcissa Black's wand was filled with something I still can't describe.

Narcissa's wand… It's still at my house.

"It's here, Harry," the girl tells me.

How did you go from calling me Mr. Potter to calling me Harry?

I push that thought out of my head and look at the packages full of small insects still stuffed and take two bags, knowing that maybe I won't be able to return for some time. Dray is not strong enough yet, the next blood moon is ten days away and according to Zephora, Dray is as helpless as a baby until then.

Until then, only a few of us will know what Dray Black is.

And after that, everyone will fear him.

"Harry," the girl calls back to me, waving her hand. "I would like to ask you, how are things going with the aurors?"

"Good," is all I reply, starting to make my way over to where the blonde is. Out of the corner of my eye I see the girl adjusting her robes, almost making one of the sleeves fall down her arm and leave her shoulder bare. "Did something bite you?"

The girl blushes and I hope I'm not being rude. However, the tunic is rearranged again, her hand scratching.

"It was just a bug," she tells me softly, starting off again. "Who is the boy that came with you?" she asks me, looking in the direction where Dray is playing with a snake.

I feel how the blood leaves my face.

"Isn't your companion afraid of anything, Harry?" she asks me, looking like me, as Dray strokes the head of a Python as if it were a kitten or a dog.

"Apparently not," I tell the person next to me in a whisper.

Most of the wizards and witches in the shop are staring at the blonde. Out of the corner of my eye I see mint green robes preparing his wand, ready to help the blond in case the snake decides that Dray looks like a good lunch.

My charm is wearing off. I reacj out, trying to take a feel of Dray's magic and I can feel it, little, curious, blinding, growing, searching... Searching.

"That's no ordinary snake, Harry," the girl next to me tells me. "That snake is magical, it is a Python Choralis E."

Fuck, out of all the things he could pet, why a highly poisonous, hot-tempered fucking magical Python?

"Look Harry, it's like Nesha," Dray tells me, stroking the snake.

No. It's not like Nesha. It is something worse.

"You're really pretty. Aren´t you the most pretty? Yes, you are," says the blond, caressing the animal. I move closer to Dray and hold him close to my body, taking him a few steps away from the glass house of the snakes, who reel in their bodies and return to tranquility.

"Don't pet the snakes like a kitten, Dray," I tell him in a serious tone. "They are not a cat or a rabbit."

"No one keeps venomous snakes in a store, Harry," he tells me and his eyes fall back on the snakes. "Besides, they deserve love and pettings too," he lifts his eyes and pouts his mouth.

God, this man is going to be my death.

And it is not the Python that attacks him, but something else, something much more lethal. I just see the white beam blinding me and I press Dray to my body, a pair of sinister curses on the tip of my tongue.

However, before I can release them...

"Hi, I'm Ritta Skitter," the woman says, lowering her magic camera and moving closer to the blond, extending her hand for him to take.

Bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left comments and kuddos, they makes my day better... Or night. It deppends on which country you are. 
> 
> HUGS. 
> 
> Greeney.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry breaks Dray's seal and makes him reborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know guys there's some sex scene in the first part, so if you don't want to read it you can roll down to the break page or + + + signs that will appear. 
> 
> I do care about you all, so if you aren't in these things, feel free to skip it. I just want for you all to feel comfortable.

NOVEMBER 20th, 2002

HARRY

This is the night. Today the seal that keeps the power of Dray and his original name hidden will be broken and although I am nervous, Zephora was very clear when she said that the complete breaking of the seal depends solely on me.

In this, only my instincts will help me.

_You must help Dray to build his own magic, let yours guide h_ _im and then become one with your lover_ , Zephora's words are one of the few things that I allow myself to remember before opening the door to my bedroom.

I gently push the thoughs away and immediately my eyes fall on the person kneeling on the bed. His naked body, without any imperfection, makes a perfect contrast with the silky black blankets on which his knees rest.

Careful not to intimidate him I walk over to Dray and crouch down until our eyes meet.

"Do you trust me?" I ask him, feeling my own nerves become visible for the first time all night.

Dray is in control, and although it is up to me to guide him, I would never do anything to harm him.

  
"Always, Harry," he tells me, extending his hand, until the tips of his fingers caress my cheek. "I trust you."

  
And I can see love shining in the depths of his silver orbs. I take his hand in mine and left a kiss on the palm. Dray blushes, but his smile tightens and the flame of his magic is kindled.

  
 _Good. Time to make your soulmate complete_ , I tell myself, as I let go of Dray's hand.

  
"I would never do anything that could harm you, Dray," I tell him, copying his actions from moments ago and letting my hand gently stroke his face. "I would never do anything that could dishonor or hurt you."

  
"I know, Harry," his voice is just a whisper, but I feel him lean his head into my hand. "I trust you."

  
I conjure up the blindfold that I bought especially for this occasion and once I have it in my free hand, I show it to Dray.

  
"May l?" I ask him, showing him the highest quality fabric in an intense blue color. And the only response I get is a slight nod and then Dray's eyes close.

  
"Yes, you may, Harry," his voice is almost a whisper.

  
And without waiting, I place the cloth over his eyes and tied it carefully behind his silver head.

White hair falls softly over the electric blue fabric and I pause in my movements to caress the small part of his ear that is visible, to then go down his jaw and finish on his neck.

  
"Is this okay?" I ask Dray and once I get his answer with a slight nod, I kneel in front of him.

  
I let my control over my magic break and immediately feel it envelop the room and then crash into something and sing contentedly within my veins.

  
"Harry, please," Dray's needy moan causes desire to bloom in the lower part of my stomach and I force my eyes open.

  
Dray's cheeks, neck, and chest are flushed and his lower lip is trapped between his teeth, in an attempt to keep quiet. However, his left hand is traveling decidedly towards his manhood, which is beginning to swell rapidly.

  
And just before Dray can touch himself, I intercept his hand with mine and bring his hand up to my mouth and leave a kiss in the center.

  
"Harry," his breathing increases. "Please."

  
I clasp our hands and use my free hand to leave a phantom caress on his thighs.

  
"Harry," and although it's hard not to give in and give him everything he asks for I'm sure I must continue.

  
"Soon," I tell him and stand up, dragging my fingers gently from his thigh to his nipple, then press my thumb against the rossy bud and begin to roll it between my fingers. "You just have to be a little more patient."

  
 _Build his magic_ , that's all my own tells me.

  
Dray is a creature of emotions and sensations. And that's all I have to build his magic. When my hand releases his nipple, I see him place them on his thighs, assuming a submissive position.

  
I conjure a jar that Zephora gave me. Dray must taste of this to completely dissolve the restriction that Zephora put on him and without hesitation I dip two of my fingers into the jar.

"Open your mouth for me, Dray," and Dray obediently opens his mouth, trying to override his own desire to raise his hand to touch me. "I promise you it tastes good." This is Daffodil nectar and once my fingers are inside Dray's warm mouth, the blonde closes it. "Suck it, love."

  
Obediently, Dray does what I've told him to do and when he swallows, I'm the one who can't suppress the guttural sound escaping my throat.

Fuck. Fuck. His mouth is so wet and hot, and I feel how my own cock begins to press against the zipper of my black jeans.

"You are so perfect, Dray," I whisper against his ear and he shudders, a needy moan reverberating around my fingers. "So beautiful and so perfect." 

I force myself to take a deep breath and lean in to kiss Dray on the mouth, until my tongue is accepted by the blonde and I let my hand go down his body until it closes on his cock and I start to move my hand up and down, swallowing every moan and sigh of my lover with my own mouth.

  
My magic is slowly coiling around thick icy silver threads. Basking in the cold contrast of the new being that is being reborn in this room. 

  
"Harry," Dray pulls away from me and my mouth latcht on his neck, sucking, nibbling and licking. Marking him as mine as his magic expands around his body. "Please," and his pleas do not fall on deaf ears. "I need you." 

  
I pull away from him and lay him on the sheets, my eyes drinking into his body, his marbled skin tinted with little pink specks on his cheeks and chest, as a red mark begins to bloom on his neck. I conjur the blindfold away from his visage to watch his dazed expression. The grey of his eyes, being swallowed by the black of his own desire. 

  
Dray turns and gets on his hands and knees.

  
"Please," he begs me, sticking his ass against my cock and causing me to lose control of my own magic again, until I feel it collide with something soft, powerful… Alive.

"What do you need, Dray?" I ask him, caressing his hole with my thumb, pressing but not breaching. He is still to gone and I need his answer. I breach push my thumb past the thight ring of muscles. The noises that are falling from his mouth a ode to the pleasure. "Tell me. What do you want?" But his only answers are moans and groans of pleasure and a string of pleases. He is so beautiful like this, moaning and begging for more. "Tell me," I spank his ass with my hand, making it tint with pink, then I knead his globes tenderly. "Tell me what you want, baby." 

I retract my thumb from inside his body. A noise to complain against my actions is followed my Dray pushing back against my body. 

"You," and it is a whimper, while I breach him with my index finger and crook it inside his body, caressing his sweet spot inside him. "You, I need you," a breathe whisper. "Please. Please."

I can hear it in his voice. He is too far gone, and his magic is crashing against mine. Begging, like his owner.

  
"Whatever you need, Dray," I lean in and whisper those words against his ear, before retracting my finger from inside him and undressing. I left soft kisses in his back, starting to prepare him, then burying myself deep into his body and claiming him as my own. Basking in the way moans and groans scape his mouth, and the way his boddy shudders when he reach his climax. "You are mine," I groan again his neck. 

"Yours, for ever," he says, before I cum inside him. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

I return to the world of the conscious and I feel the weight of something on my chest and the complaint of the muscles of my arms when I flex them. I open my eyes and see Draco's white hair spread across my chest. His perfect white skin in contrast to mine, dark and scarred by the Dursleys and Voldemort.

  
Careful not to wake Dray, I start stroking his hair, while trying to regain control over my magic. However, while I'm completely sure I'm under control, the clothes Draco was wearing this afternoon are still floating in the air, along with my black jeans and our underwear.Daffodil's nectar jar is open, and its opening faces the ground. However, the nectar danced around the jar playfully, which reminds me of Narcissa Black's consciousness when I saw her in the Unspeakable apartment.

  
"So this is your magic," I whispered to a sleeping Dray. And I touch the next object that floats past me. Immediately, I feel the electric current that makes my dick wake up and feel interested, while my magic is agitated and it begins to look for a way to escape to rediscover what it has lost.

  
I smile, thinking that this power can be compared to Albus Dumbledore's. Serene, calming, warm and calculating. This is Dray's magic and my own... My own magic is deeply in love with what it has found, just as I am with the man that carries it inside him.

  
"I love you," Dray's voice takes me out of my own thoughts and wonders. "I love you as I have never loved."  
I place a kiss on his forehead, at the same time that I hold him closer to my body.

  
"I love you too, Dray," I whisper, fixing my eyes on his. “With all that I am and with all that I have. I love you."  
Dray smiles at me and scoots back into my arms, making his erection brush against mine.

  
"Round two?" he asks me and smiles at me innocently.

  
And I feel like the luckiest person in the entire universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left comments and kuddos, they always makes my day better. 
> 
> I had so much fun writting this chapter and even if it's not that long, or if today is not posting day, I just cannot take this idea off my mind. So, here it is!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dray meets a few of Albus friends and Harry's late head of house. 
> 
> He hold his wand for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter today. It was for yesterday, but I fell asleep (Shame on me). If you still hadn't read about how Harry brake Dray's seal, then you should go back to chapter 28. 
> 
> Now, enjoy with cake and hot chocolate.

DECEMBER 3rd, 2002

HARRY

I look at Dray as Dumbledore extends his hand and greets him promptly, but carefully. The headmaster's eyes continue to shine as if within them he could hide the mystery of galaxies and each of their stars.

  
"Hello, Albus," Dray greets him as if he thinks this man is still a normal person.

  
"Hello again, little Dray," the headmaster says as if greeting an old friend, and I force myself to remember that yes, Albus Dumbledore and Dray Black have known each other for many decades, prior to this. "I trust that Harry has already explained what you are."

  
Dray nods softly, his movement diplomatic but relaxed allowing me to let my guard down slightly. Although I'm not entirely sure where we are, the reality is that the magic of this place doesn't feel hostile. And so, I don't need the compulsion to ready myself to strike. 

  
Until some presences are present in this same place.

  
I watch Albus and Dray chat animatedly from where I am standing. From here, the chimney that Albus came out of is visible and this house isn't big enough to hide the entire Order, or any horde of Death Eaters, yet my right hand rests firmly where I hold my wand, a curse on the tip of my tongue for anything that approaches Dray too quickly.

  
 _Curse first then ask questions_ , was what Kingsley Shacklebolt taught me when I entered the Aurors. And even if it is slight, a curse is still a curse.

  
And when it comes to Dray, is better being safe than sorry.

  
"Does it bother you if I invite a few more people?" Dumbledore's words catch my attention and immediately, my eyes land on the fireplace.

Yes, they are waiting outside, somewhere. 

  
Dray's gray eyes stare at me and I can see the storm raging inside him. Four days ago I built Dray's magic while we were making love… And the next day, in our apartment, Zephora, Regulus and Albus were ready to launch questions and demand answers, that not even we understood or has an answer to. 

  
Zephora left us with the mission of discovering how our bond behaved. And we began to discover it, as the sex was increasing, we were able to feel the other inside of ourselves, inside our heads like an orb that we can caress any moment. Dray's a calming, warmth sky blue sphere inside of my own core. 

  
Dray's magic is intoxicating as is his entire being in general. However, after a long make-out session and marking Dray as mine for eternity, we were still not entirely sure how stable the bond between us was. Until a couple of hours ago in the middle of a raid I felt the biggest panic of my life.

And I knew that panic did not belong to me. It belonged to Dray, who must have been at home rehearsing to play Paganini. And after that incident, after making sure that Dray was fine, that nothing and no one had hurt him, I promised him that we would find out what was happening to us. And we compromised. 

  
And here we are, trying to find out what is happening to us entirely. It is not just being bonded what we are trying to discover, but how to control Draco's magic. However, I have a promise to keep and that promise means not getting involved in Draco's decisions as to how to develop his own magic.

  
I will always be there for him, but there cannot be a relationship without trust. And while I know that Dray is capable of kissing even the deadliest creature on the planet (Nesha and Python Choralis E are proof of that), I need Dray to trust himself so he can trust me, and vice-versa. Because if not, this relationship is going to be very screwed up, and even if it is not our intention, one of us can get hurt if we do not remedy this soon.

  
Dray's response passes over my thoughts and the next thing I see is a couple of people descending from the chimney. The first is Professor McGonagall and behind her comes Madame Pomfrey.

  
"These beautiful ladies are Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey," Albus tells him and when Dray's eyes fall on me again, I smile at him and try to support him with just my presence.

  
Dray smiles at me and his eyes sparkle, and I immediately feel the magic within me curl up and heat up with pleasure at the simple act of complicity, trust and something else.

  
Dray stretches out his hand, white skin, and long, slender fingers, proof of his true nature as cellists. And the first to shake it is Professor McGonagall.

  
"Good afternoon, young Black," the Transfiguration teacher tells him and Dray bows his head gently. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall and the head of the Gryffindor house," she introduces herself as if Dray is even part of Hogwatrs, which moves me. "The house of the lions."

  
Dray looks at her and then looks at me and I see him laugh softly, his gray eyes closing tightly for a brief second and giving her all the tenderness of a little boy who has remembered a mischief.

  
"Nice to meet you, Professor McGonagall, I'm Dray Black," he says and gently releases her hand, then walks over to Madame Pomfrey and extends his hand. "And you, Madame Pomfrey," he says respectfully.

And immediately I can see the matron smile and take Dray's hand in hers, then gently shake it.

  
"The pleasure is all mine, Dray," Madame Pomfrey tells her. "Harry," she tilts his head slightly towards me and McGonagall fixes her eyes on me.

  
"Potter," she says as if she doesn't expect to see me here. "Can normal things never happen to you, Potter?"  
And although her tone sounds resigned, I can also hear the pride in her voice. Seven years with her guiding and raising me, almost like a mother.

  
"Apparently not, Professor," I tell her and smile at her. "But, this is better than the previous years, isn't it?" And if we compare that in previous years, every year there has been an assassination attempt against me, this is almost normal. "At least now I'm happy."

  
McGonagall nods in understanding.

  
"Now that that's out of my way, I want to tell you that the sorting hat decided Dray would be in Hufflepuff," says Albus, as he pops a small cookie into his mouth.

  
Dray looks at me.

  
"Hufflepuff," and while it may sound like a statement to others' ears, I know Dray needs confirmation.

  
"Do you remember the hat attack on your fashion sense?" I ask him and his eyes immediately fill with knowledge, and then outrage.

  
"Ah, Hufflepuff," he says as if he doesn't like it, but still all he does is make McGonagall roll his eyes and Pomfrey laugh.

  
"They are here to teach you Draco," and at the blond's full name, I see McGonagall choke on air.

  
"Draco?" asks as if trying to process. "Draco Black? The boy from the ... "

  
"It's okay, Minerva," Dumbledore says placing his hand on my former teacher's shoulder. "Dray is yet to mature, and needs to be taught so that he can assist Harry in the next war."

  
Dray looks at me like the words have physically hurt him.

  
"War? What war? " he asks and I see the pain in his eyes. “No matter what it is or how many things you say I can do, I will not kill anyone. What would my mother or my father think of me?"

  
I approach Dray and the step I take forward, he takes it backward.

"It's not like that, love," I tell him, holding out my hand, and trying to calm my own emotions. These, the ones I feel right now: confusion, disappointment, betrayal and great sadness, are not mine. They are from Dray, and while his reaction hurts me too, I can't blame him. That was my same reaction in fifth year, and by then, I already knew what they were asking of me. "I would never ask that of you," I tell him, but I don't try to take another step toward him. Not because the pain is winning, but because he would never intentionally hurt me. “I would never ask you to become a murderer, much less for me. I also don't want you to assist me if you don't want to, Dray, ”I tell him and his eyes meet mine and I let his magic envelop and search me. And right now, I can see how vulnerable Dray is, even if it doesn't seem like it, because there is always a smile on his lips and his thoughts are pure. But, right here and now… Right now I know that Dray loves me and that I have the power that many don't. I can destroy him without even trying hard enough. “You can assist me by being safe. It is all I ask. Do you remember the first time in my apartment? You just have to be home, for me to come back to you when it is over." His magic is almost cooling my own fire, and I let it be. "All I am asking of you is to be safe and be home for me take care of when the day is over. Nothing else, I promise."

  
Slowly his muscles relax and I can feel some things start to fall to the ground.

  
"Sorry," Dray apologizes and lowers his head.

  
And I cross the few meters that separate us to wrap my arms around him and surround us both with my own magic, his submitting to mine. Letting mine intwertwine with his. 

  
"You have nothing to apologize for, Dray," I tell him, placing my index finger and thumb on his chin and lifting his face. "Nothing bad happened," I press our foreheads together and Dray let me be, and I feel calm again between us. "It is I who must apologize to you, for not informing you in advance about all this," I leave a kiss on his cheek. "You forgive me?"

  
"Will you kill someone?" he asks me and his eyes fill with tears.

  
"The truth, Dray, is that he already died," I tell him and his bright eyes focus only on me. “He died many decades ago and decided that he did want to come back to life to take revenge on everyone, for everything. Innocent or guilty, young or old, Muggles or wizards, none of that matters to him, except that the world learns that if what he orders is not done when he says so, there will be consequences to pay,” I try to be the most honest, because I want to erase that pain from his eyes. "I will not kill him, because he is already dead. A walking dead." 

  
"And why did he die?" he asks me, his fingertip caressing my scar, as if his magic could senses it.

  
"Because to be immortal, my beloved, first you have to kill, and then you have to die," I tell him, removing his hand from my scar and kissing the palm of his hand. “I refused to die Dray, but in magic when a ritual calls for a sacrifice, the sacrifice will be made. My mother refused to die for an unjust cause, as did my father. And when he tried to offer me as a sacrifice, my mother's magic collided with his and killed him,” I tell Dray.

Still, Voldemort was able to turn me into one of his horrids things. 

"And how old were you?" he asks me, stroking my cheek.

  
"Almost two," I tell him and I feel his forehead separate from mine. Instead, he rests it on my shoulder and wraps me in his arms.

  
"I'm so sorry, Harry," he tells me and for the first time in a long time, I know that someone can understand my pain. Not because Dray lost his own mother to the cause of the same man, but because I know he can feel my emotions, raw and real. "I'm really sorry," and while I'm almost certain that telling Dray that Voldemort is also partially responsible for his mother's death could help him fight for our cause, I refuse to poison the most beautiful thing in my life with that information. If Dray doesn't know, then he doesn't need to.

Narcissa did more than ask me to take care of her child. She practically gave me her blessing to take care of him, because those were my wishes. I still wish that Dray is happy and feels loved and desired. I am happy to remind him everyday that he belongs somewhere, to somewhat beyond his Father.

  
That he belongs by my side, and I can only earn that by keeping it as it is now. Sweet, cuddly, innocent in so many ways and even if it costs my life, I'll keep it that way. He deserves someone who doesn't have such a complicated life. Even before he knew what he was, who he was, he chose me because: It is difficult to reject a boy who gives me sweet cakes when I feel sad. And that was his response when I asked him why he put up with Ginny and all this heavy burden that comes with me.

  
"I love you, Harry," and it's a short whisper. "Much. Although sometimes I forget."

  
I hold him against me.

  
“I know, although sometimes I forget too,” and I kiss his white hair and then separate it from me. “Now, I need you to learn so that you can be safe. Okay?"

  
Determination shines in his eyes and he nods slightly, as he turns and faces the three wizards in front of him.

  
"Teach me what I must know in order not to be a burden to Harry," he tells them and the atmosphere in the room becomes heavy, and it charges with magic.

  
Dray is determined to do whatever it takes to keep us safe. Even if that means bleeding, but never killing.

  
 _You can rest easy Dray. You don't have to kill anyone, that's what dementors exist for_ , and I smile sideways knowing that my thinking is not far from reality.

  
"But first things first," says Dumbledore, as a new person appears from the fireplace, his hair white and a knowing smile, as he drags a huge drawer. "This is Garrick Olivander," Albus tells Dray. "He makes the wands."

Dray looks at him and in a matter of seconds gives him a big hug and Olivander only returns the gesture with melancholy, patting his small back with his ruddy hands. The old man closes his eyes and his hand smooth down Dray's white hair. 

  
"Do you remember me now?" the wandmaker asks him.

  
"You made my first wooden horse," Dray tells him. "And then my little music box, when I graduated from kindergarten. My lamp when I went to The King's College and my cello,” Dray tells him. "My cello has your name on it, in the back of the neck."

  
What?

  
Olivander pats him on the back.

  
"That's right, young Black," he says. "This is the last gift I'm going to give you," he tells him, opening the drawer and pulling twenty-one wands from it. "Choose wisely, Dray Black," the man tells him, sitting on the ground in front of his wands and Dray in front of him.

  
Dray's hand stops on one, but his head shakes gently.

  
"That was your grandfather's nineteenth wand," Garrick tells him. “Great man, very smart. Enchantment maker, his wands usually exploded. It was his magic taking care of his body," Olivander says as he always does. 

  
Dray looks at them all, while his hand rests on his chest, right at the level of his heart. Its magic core.

  
"This is it," Dray tells him, holding up a straight, simple wand.

  
"Excellent decision, young Black," Olivander tells him. "Unicorn hair core, nine inches, is very flexible," the man tells him, looking at him. “It is one of a kind. But, it reminds me of you." And he smiles at him with knowing blue eyes.

  
"Why?" Dray asks, not really grabbing the wand, barely playing with it, making it spin between his long, pale fingers.

  
"Because they were harvested during the new moon," Olivander tells him. "It's a special sand, it's made with wood from a tree that was thought to be extinct," Olivander tells him. “They recently found three more. So… They will no longer be extinct, if you..." and his eyes roam over all of us, "Take good care of them,” and his eyes fell on me again briefly, then he looks to Dray. “One day you will know which tree I am talking about. Come visit me soon,” and with that, Olivander and his wands disappear.

  
"Yes sir," Dray says to nothing, raising the wand in his left hand and closing his eyes. "It's not LevioSar, it's Liviohsa," he mimics Ron and I can't help but laugh. However, most things in the room start to levitate a couple of inches off the ground and I feel really proud.

  
"Ronald Weasley, you are the best," Dray says about excited and almost falling out of laughter, as he looks at nowhere in particular.

"He has the same problem as Harry," says McGongall. 

"Not a problem, really," Albus pops in and clasp his hands. "Amazing." 

I cannot help but feel proud of my soulmate. It will take a few months training his magic so he can control it better, but we will be ok. He will be formidable and now, he has a way to defend himself. 

And I feel relieve wash over me, knowing that surely, he will be home waiting for me when this war is over.

I love you, I think and try to envelop him with that sentence. He looks over his shoulder and I feel his warm, soft magic surronding me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left comments and kuddos, they makes my day better. 
> 
> Hugs,  
> Greeney.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is preocupied. Draco is happy, even if his magic is giving him troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late, but as soon as I can. I am starting to work again on the 18th, so... Yup. 
> 
> Enjoy with hot chocolate because this weather... Brrrr. It's cold!

DECEMBER 10th, 2002

HARRY

"This is the plan of action we will take if He-Who-Most-No-Be-Named comes to the realization that we have an Draco Black among us before he can begin to understand his true power," says Kingsley, waving his wand and the image changes. "Now this year's Muggle Studies teacher has disappeared again," says the Minister for Magic. "We need to find her, before she ends up like Miss Burbage," he says softly. "Plus, this will take a load off all the honest folks who follow the newspapers," Kingsley's hands entwine behind his back. “Aurors, it is our job to rescue Miss Barton and restore the trust that the wizarding world of Britain has in us. We can't afford for Voldemort to feel like he has won another battle, because that will only take away one more ally and give him one less person to fight. Also, Muggle-born children at Hogwarts are extremely scared, which is why you would like to ask all Muggle-born Aurors to talk to the parents of these children, while we plan what to do with them. Some of them will have to leave the city and go elsewhere. Auror Patts, gather a group of Aurors to secure houses elsewhere, outside of Britain, where Muggle-born wizard children can take refuge."

I respectfully raise my hand, giving Kingsley a chance to deny me permission to speak. My heart still pounding about Kingsley telling them about Draco Black being in our ranks. Shit.

"Why this new measure?" I ask, still not feeling entirely happy asking this.

"Auror Potter," Kingsley respectfully tells me. “We are pretty sure there are spies for Voldemort at Hogwarts. He is targeting Muggle-born infants and kids, because even at 17 you are still a kid..." He looks into me and I can feel it. He still sees me as a kid. "Those children who will be the next witches and wizards, Voldemort is extinguishing. Many of us already know that pureblood wizards don't have the same magic as a Muggle-born child. If Voldemort eliminates them, he won't have to deal with people more powerful than him to oppose him when he comes to power. And that, we simply cannot allow."

I nod gently.

"Thank you, Minister," I tell him, feeling my cheeks burn. Kingsley's face changes for a few seconds and he seems to hesitate for a few seconds. "Is your partner not a Muggle, Auror Potter?"

I nod softly, as the eyes of all the people in the room fall on me. Even a colleague pats me on the shoulder. In front of me, Ron seems to be doubting Kingsley's intentions, although I myself would like to rush home right now and make sure my beautiful boyfriend is safe, I know that's pretty stupid. Dray must be recording in some studio right now.

"That's right, my partner is Muggle," I reply to Kingsley, wondering what he is trying to accomplish with this. "How do you know?"

"Maybe, because it's going to be front page print this afternoon on the prophet, Auror Potter," Kingsley tells me in a serious voice.

Hell, Narcissa must be glaring at me from her grave.

Kingsley drops a copy of the Prophet and I realize it's true. It is a photograph of Dray, with his hair in differents shades of gray, however, the shades are soft and intermingle with the white locks of his natural hair. His hair is a perfect contrast to his pale skin and beautiful gray-colored eyes. His cello behind his back and our hands clasped, while the couple in the photograph walk along the Queen's Walk. This is from when Dray has his hair dyed in rainbow soft colors.

"You're wasting no time, Potter," one of the Extraction guys tells me, looking at the photograph of the Prophet. The last thing the Dray in the picture does is stand on the toes of his shoes and left a kiss on Photography-Harry's lips.

"Does he know that you are Harry Potter?" Kingsley asks me, looking into my eyes in front of half a department of aurors.

"That's right," I reply, holding his gaze. "He knows my name is Harry Potter."

"But he doesn't know who you are," says Kingsley, in front of the entire department.

What the hell, Shacklebolt?

"He knows it, he knows that I can do magic and he also knows that I am some kind of terrorist-victim-policeman," I tell him, taking the copy of the Prophet. "And I also filled out the form where I inform the Ministry about my official relationship with a Muggle."

"So Auror Potter, can I trust your partner to help you with the quest to converse with the Muggle-born wizards and witches still attending Hogwarts, and his families?"

I look at Kingsley trying to understand his true intentions. However, this could not be Kingsley's plan, he would not put Narcissa's child in danger, not when Narcissa and him are beyond first-name basis. They are nick-name pals, for God sakes. But, Dumbledore... Dumbledore is another story.

“I could ask him, Kingsley, but in the end the decision is his. This world is oblivious to anything he knows,” I tell him, trying to sound as neutral as possible. On second thought, I should seem a bit more frustrated though. "He's just a Muggle, and he still doesn't know all the terms or laws of this society... Cult, as he sometimes calls what we are," although that was only once, the people in this room must not know.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see an auror grinning lewdly. But, I force myself to return my attention to Kingsley.

“Please ask your partner for their help. We fail to understand the world of Muggles, especially those who have never had contact with them,” Kingsley says and his eyes dart across the room. "Auror Thomas, any help that your wife could give us would also be very appreciated, after all she is also a witch born to Muggle parents."  
Thomas nods his black head and smiles softly at Kingsley.

"I'll ask my wife," he says, choosing the same answer as me.

"Good," says Kinsgley. "This meeting is over. And remember, there is a war over our heads and if we don't win, nothing will be left alive." Kingsley's eyes fall on the same Auror who has been so troublesome this year that even Ron has thought to curse him.

“Well, Aurors, you know what to do,” Kingsley says before turning and leaving.

I put on my gloves and stick the jacket of the aurors to my body, while I put on a coat for the infernal cold that it is burning my bones. I can feel the cold once I leave the office and even though I am still inside the Ministry. I close my eyes briefly, trying to retain my magic within me and remind myself of the reasons why I like Kingsley Shacklebolt alive and not dead, even though what he has done has felt like a direct threat to my soul mate.

I make my way to the level of the Unspeakables and stop in front of the door to Venus's living room, where I know Hermione is studying something or the other, and I rap the door with my knuckles.

Until the door opens and Blaise Zabini and Hermione walk out of there.

"Harry," Zabini tells me, as if we hadn't exchanged insults and curses at school. “I hope this climate is over soon. I hate being so pale."

Blaise's comment freaks me out, because there's no way in the world that Blaise Zabini is pale, not even if he think he is with this hell of a winter. His skin is as brown rich as ever.

"Hey, Blaise. Mione," I call her, seeing her completely distracted with some books. "Is there still a way I can talk to... her," and I just shake my head forward.

Hermione gently shakes her head.

"She's asleep, Harry," Hermione tells me looking into her eyes. “Since that day when she talked to you and she fell asleep again, she hasn't quite gotten up. We do not know what is wrong with her, but before you she had a very long talk with her brother..."

Kingsley.

"Thank you," is all I say to Hermione before taking her in my arms and holding her against my chest. "By the way, is there any way I can sue the prophet?"

Hermione looks at me, her eyes full of evil and mischief.

"Sure, Harry," she tells me softly and her hand falls on my shoulder. "Just tell me when you want to start the process and I'll put you in touch with one of the best lawyers in the wizarding world."

And even as I turn around to go home to my boyfriend and our pets, I can't help but feel like Hermione is going to cause the prophet a lot of trouble.

However, I know that Dray will become a target. Voldemort may ignore this for a couple of days, but there is no way he will ignore it for long. Especially not with Lucius Malfoy among his ranks.

†††

"Dray, love," I call to him, closing the apartment door behind me. "Draco?"

But, who receives me is Nesha, her body drags on the floor of the apartment, while her little fuchsia wings flap agitated.

"Moon master is sick," is all I can understand over the flapping of her wings.

"Is Dray sick?" I ask Nesha, picking her up off the floor, as I watch her curl into my hand and start walking towards the living room of the house.

What I am greeted with, however, is a total change in my own half-empty apartment. While it is true that I made a promise to fix everything so that Dray would want to stay in our home, the truth is that it is not easy to ask for durable furniture and apparently it is not easy to raise it more than twenty stories to a penthouse in London.  
Which is why the extra chair in the livingroom surprises me. However, it is not the only thing that surprises me.

No. What has touched my heart the most is seeing the Christmas decorations in the room.

Green garlands with red balls adorn the mantle of the chimney, red cushions with the letters LOVE are arranged on the armchairs, and a huge red blanket with gold edges is on the back of the largest armchair. Soft pale brown furniture contrasting with the red, gold and green of the decorations. The whole room seems to glow under the light of lights that are in different parts of the room.

When I lift my head I can see the little plant above my head. And around my neck two arms are wrapped.

"Mistletoe?" I ask him and let my eyes fall on the most beautiful person who has ever entered my life  
.  
"I needed excuses to kiss you," Dray tells me, clinging to my body. Without thinking, I wrap my free arm around his slim body and place a kiss on his lips.

"Was today a good day?" I ask him after parting our lips.

"It wasn't the best," Dray tells me. “I got pretty wet after the recording ended. But at least my cello is fine,” he tells me and I notice the pink tint that his cheeks and nose are acquiring. "I should send a gift to Mr. Olivander, after all, he has been making my cello's since I was four."

"You should, yes," I agreed with him. "You've sneezed a lot in the last few hours," I affirm, knowing it's a reality. Luna is as pale as Dray, and I can clearly see the passing of the onset of a cold on Draco's face, because it's the same as Luna used to have after walking through Hogwarts barefoot. "Come on, I'll make you hot chocolate if you promise to wear socks and a warmer sweater," I tell him, pulling away from him and putting one last kiss on his hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I can still see a lock of light blue hair intermingle in the silver strands and I smile at him. "What do you say, Nesha?" I ask the little occamy with a soft hiss. "Shall we hunt cockroaches?" I ask and immediately Nesha's attention falls on me.

"Are you going to take care of Suay?" she asks me, trying to handle Dray's name with her forked tongue.

"That's right, Nesha," I tell her, setting her down. "Now I'll take care of Dray," I tell her, stroking her plumage, then stand up and go to the kitchen.

"Harry," there is something in Dray's voice that makes me pause in the preparation of our drinks, to rest my eyes on him. “I thought about putting a little tree in the room. But…” Dray blushes furiously and his fingers begin to play with the hem of my sweater. My sweater. Dray is mine. "I used the wooden stick that Albus gave me and I just wanted to levitate a couple of Christmas balls and..." And he lowered his beautiful face. And when he looks up again, I can see how the blush begins to travel up his neck. "Everything started to levitate, and they're still levitating... The balls for the tree, I mean," he tells me in a serious tone, but his cheeks are still stained red.

"Okay, love," I tell him, going back to preparing our drinks.

"Oh, and I made cookies too," he tells me and heads to the oven to pull out a tray full of gingerbread man cookies. The bright smile returning to his lips. "I assure you that these are the best."

And I take one from the pile on the tray and bite the head of the gingerbread man.

"What did you practice today?" I ask him, waving my wand over the chocolate liquid and heating it up instantly.

"Some very nice things," he tells me in a serious tone, as he cuts a part of his hand with the bread knife. Immediately, my heart races, my muscles tense, and my magic coils within my own core, preparing, getting ready… To put our soul mate back to safety. But, before I can move, Draco takes his wand out of his sleeve, waving it gently and gracefully. "Vulnera Sanentur," he says softly, and I watch the wound close and leave perfect white skin in its wake. “Madame Pomfrey says that I have abilities to heal. She says that it is in my on my own nature."

However, I can't say anything. My blood is still running through my veins like cold magma. My heart is still threatening to jump out of my chest and my magic is still restless, searching for the person responsible for the wound inflicted on the blond's hand. And I try to calm down, because our soulmate is okay.

"Harry?" he asks me, looking at me with his blue eyes, rapidly turning gray.

And without giving him a chance to say anything else, I take him by the wrists and stick him to my body, hugging him and letting my magic envelop us both and calm down.

"You're good?" I ask him, pressing him closer to my chest, holding him there. "Are you?"

Dray's arms wrap around my waist.

"I'm fine, Harry," he tells me. "You will no longer have to worry that I will bleed to death," he tells me and I can see the truth shining in his eyes. “Because I can already heal big wounds. Madame Pomfrey is going to teach me everything she can, along with Professor McGonagall and I will learn, and I will help you win this war, Harry,” he tells me as his hand rests on my cheek, caressing, soothing, healing. “I will assist you in this war, healing those you love the most."

"I don't want you to assist me, Dray," I tell him, looking into his eyes and into his soul. "I just want you to be yourself. I don't want your eyes to ever see death or for your soul to writhe in pain from the wounds of another," I tell him, caressing his cheek, in a mediocre imitation of what the blond is doing to me, because my fear is too great. "I love you as you are. With that air of innocence that only disappears when we make love, with each warm smile that manages to warm my soul or with your refreshing words. I don't want you to be a soldier, just another figure in this war."

"And I won't be," he tells me, his lips practically on mine. “I will assist you, keep those you love healthy and in doing so, I will make sure to soothe your soul too, Harry. I'm not blind, I can see how much it hurts you to hurt others or to see them suffer,” his words a soft whisper. His eyes clouded with tears not yet shed. "Because I love you too, Harry Potter, and although it is not easy to be by your side, you are worth it. It's worth fighting for all the blushes that spread under your cheeks whenever someone pays you too much attention or says something cute to you. Harry, I don't do this for the others, because I'm that selfish,” and although I want to refute it, I can't. "You cannot protect my eyes from looking at the dead to death itself, because I have already seen it, I have already walked by its side, several times," he tells me and I see him raise his left hand up to the height of my eyes. “Because there were times where I was so miserable and so selfish that I tried to take my own life. Many times, Harry. I know the most painful thing this world has to offer: running, hiding, saving my life, seeing my dad bleeding on the ground because people with skull masks hurt him a lot. Feeling like the biggest scum in the world, desolate, abandoned... Being nothing. Being nobody,” his voice breaks and a tear rolls down his cheek. "But, there is something too beautiful within you, Harry, and cursed I will be if I do not try to protect you, take care of you and love you with the same devotion that you dedicate to me every day. I love you, and helping to reduce the weight of your soul is the only way I am going to help you in this war,” he tells me and takes his wand in his left hand. “And this will help me to help you heal. This and all the love I can give you."

Dray hides his head in the curve of my neck and I hold him against my body, while I force myself to take a deep breath and accept my boyfriend's decision… My soul mate. My better half.

"I love you," I tell him, combing his hair with my fingers and feeling extremely grateful. My own worry evaporating in the wake of his confession.

"And I you, Potter," he says he sulkily, but he still leaves a kiss on my chin and I am content to know that he is fine, in my arms.

Dray is strong and I force myself to trust in his abilities, in what he is… And in his love. Not only for me, but for all those who have ever crossed his path and managed to be better, just by knowing him. I force myself to believe, to have faith, that we'll go home after the war is over and be will be okay, because we will have each other.

"I love you, very much," I tell him again, closing my eyes, feeling like Nesha peak her tongue against my fingertips in support. "And I love you too, Nesha," I hiss to the occamy.

Dray rises his face as the most beautiful smile in the world is starting born on his lips.

“Tell her I love her too,” and as I give the blonde's message to our daughter Occamy, I feel her wrap herself in our clasped hands and settle in for a nap.

Nesha settles in better and her body stretches upward, in an attempt to reach Dray's cheek, which she touches with the tip of her forked tongue.

"Let's decorate the Christmas tree, okay?" I ask him, looking into his eyes. "And so we can also take the opportunity to practice the things that Min... Professor McGonagall has taught you."

Dray smiles at me and Nesha wraps herself around his arm. Her eyes clossing, her wings flapping softly.

"Are you listening to Nesha?" he tells the Occamy, and even though Nesha doesn't understand, her head slaps gently against Dray's cheek, as she climb form his arm to his neck, settling in to nap. Then, Dray sneeze again, and I see the forgotten mugs in the kitchen table.

And as I watch the two of them walk to the room where a floating Christmas tree is sure to await me… I can't help but feel like I must protect Dray now more than ever. Voldemort will hear from him soon and I am sure he will open the gates of hell just to give me a bitter drink.

"Never mind, Dray is strong," I tell myself in an attempt to kill my own sadness. "We will be together for ever, for a long long time. He is mine and I am his," and my magic agreed fiercely. "We will live." I am determine to see us both trough this war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left comments and kuddos, they makes my day better. And they help me a lot! 
> 
> Hugs, GreeneySilvery


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late, but not so much! This chapter wasn't easy to write. It left me drained. 
> 
> I was written on "A Light In The Dark" so I am happy about it. Mysterious Ways is almost done, we are in the middle of it and I feel good about this. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter with lemonade and sandwiches.

DECEMBER 11th, 2002

DRACO

"You have to concentrate a little more, Mr. Black," I hear Madam Pomfrey tell me, as she puts her hand on my shoulder. "I know it's difficult, but this is going to depend on whether Harry comes back to you or not."

I open my eyes and look at Harry, sitting in front of me, his green eyes look at me with the greatest love anyone has ever expressed to me, perhaps only comparable to the love with which my own father looks at me.

"Can you really feel everything that I feel?" I ask Harry and he just nods softly, his hand caressing my cheek.

"I wish it was easier for Draco," I hear Harry's voice, inside my head, but my chest feels warm as his voice echoes in my mind. "While it is true that my well-being depends on being able to handle his emotions, it is also true that his magic has just awakened. We are dependent on each other."

"Harry?" I call out to him. “What does it have to do with my magic just awakening? Albus said I could do it if I study hard enough."

Harry looks at me with big green eyes and a smile begins to form softly on his lips.

"Don't move, either of you," Madam Pomfrey says and I follow her gaze as I watch her walk from one place to another in the living room of Harry's apartment.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Nesha flapping her wings gently and testing the air around her with her little pink tongue. A couple of nights ago, Harry brought a book that his friend, Luna Lovegood, lent him. There she talked about occamies, and how little ones use their tongue to smell… Which is strange, because as far as I know you can smell with your nose. And Nesha has one, then, why is not she using that one?

Harry laughs softly, while Madam Pomfrey is still in the kitchen gathering liquids, in a huge pot, from what I can see from here, which is not enough.

"What?" I ask him looking into his eyes and seeing how the corners of them wrinkle. This is Harry's sincere smile, not the one I have seen born on his lips when we entered Harry's world.

"I don't know how you can go from one thought to the next in a matter of seconds," Harry tells me. "Your mind is very beautiful, Draco." And his thumb caresses my cheek, while Nesha touches my hand with the tip of her tongue. I hear Harry hiss something and Nesha. "Your mind is always wandering."

Suddenly the rhythm of Harry and Nesha's hisses makes me think of Rachmaninoff and I hear the G major sonata inside my head. The fingers of my hand move over the wooden floor, while my head accurately remembers each note of both the cello and the accompanying piano.

And I get lost in the little world, while the notes go through my head, and my brain compares them to many other things at once. Imagining possible orchestral accompaniments that don't really exist, listening in my head while I place other instruments, other notes... Another essence.

"Harry?" Madam Pomfrey's voice makes me open my eyes and I immediately lean over to look at Harry. His fingers are massaging his temples and applying pressure to the point. "What happened?" Madame Pomfrey looks at me first and then at Harry.

I shrug because I really don't have the answer to whatever Madam Pomfrey is questioning.

"Dray thinks too fast," says Harry. “One second he's thinking about one thing and the next he's thinking about two more and his brain just processes it like it's the most normal thing in the world. His brain listens to music, but that alone is not enough for him, his brain conjured a huge sheet of music on which he wrote, perhaps, everything he was listening to in his head at that moment, and I'm even sure that parts that are not in the piece were included there, because of the speed with which the notes were erased and reappeared and then sounded. It was all too fast. I couldn't even understand if I liked him or not,” Harry chuckles softly, still massaging his skull, his pale face making me want to hug him, but I stop when Harry puts his hand on my chest. I immediately feel the rejection creep into my heart. "I need a moment Dray, you think too fast and everything inside your beautiful head is very confusing."

Maybe if there was confusion inside my head it would be easier for Harry, but he let go and I don't try to touch him again. I think about his eyes when he is happy and soft snoring sounds while he is sleeping. This is not a rejection, this is Harry needing a moment. Just that, like when he is sleeping, he body needs a moment to keep going.

“This thing you are experiencing is the second phase of your bond,” Madame Pomfrey tells us, as her wand moves above our heads and I see several silver threads connect with threads that look like gold… Like gold inside a foundry, with that intense orange touch. "This is what ties you both together, which is quite a bit," the woman gives us a serious look and I feel small again. “You will have to work on this as well. But now, first thing first. You will work on your magical connection,” Madame Pomfrey says, reaching out to help me up. I take it between mine and smile at the matron. However, the growl coming from Harry's throat makes me look down and Madame Pomfrey lets go as quickly as possible, as Harry's magic thunders around his body. "He's yours, Harry," she tells him. "And I do not pose any threat to you or to the bond you both share." However, Harry's magic only fades once Madam Pomfrey takes a step back.

I think about what happened last night, the state that Harry arrived in made me call the only two magical people I trust who have a Muggle phone to call: My dad and Hermione Granger.

I force myself not to think about what happened last night and focus on Harry. Harry is behind me at my left hand and his magic is still in the air, but calmer now. Madame Pomfrey is in front of me, a little more to my right, perhaps, trying to put distance between her and Harry.

Maybe. However, I cannot assure anything. Harry's magic seems calmer, but I am pretty sure, it is ready to protect.

"Draco, you will close your eyes," Madam Pomfrey instructs me. “And you will let Harry's magic guide you. You won't be able to say a single word, Mr. Potter,” Madame Pomfrey looks at Harry seriously.

And I force myself to close my eyes.

It feels really strange, as if inside me there was a small stream, which with the passing of the seconds is guiding me towards something much bigger. However, it feels warm… Like an Ocean. And somewhere along this path I come across the clear image of Harry, his hair moving gently in the salty breeze.

"Harry," and immediately I feel the rawest of happiness. "Harry you are here... Inside my head."

Harry smiles at me, but he makes no effort to touch me.

"This isn't really your head, Draco," he tells me softly, taking two steps back. "This is you," Harry's hand lights up with a fireball, which then rises up into the sky, allowing me to see everything around me and a little more.

"What do you mean, this is me?" I ask him, sitting down on the floor. It is strange, the sea must not be near the grass. “I am Dray Black. Draco Black."

Harry sits next to me and laces his hand with mine. The sky above us is not the typical blue sky on a summer day. No. The sky above our heads is painted a strange purple, rose and golden color, while heavy gray clouds block the light… If this place had any light sources in the first place.

"Right, you're Dray or Draco Black," Harry tells me, bringing our clasped hands to his lips. "But, you are also an exceptional cellist and an incredible singer," he tells me, leaving a kiss on the back of my hand. "However, you have to remember that you are of magic, Dray," his voice is a low whisper that rides on the breeze. “You are an incomparable dreamer, everything that surrounds us is you. Our magic is a reflection of who we are, of our own actions and a total reflection of our intentions and thoughts. Our desires."

I look Harry straight in the eye, trying to make sense of his words. This doesn't feel like a class where they explain something to you, and this doesn't feel like everyday Harry. This one feels like the Harry I've rarely encountered, full of devotion and love. A Harry that rarely comes to light, much less when we venture close to the magical world.

"What does that mean?" I ask him, searching inside his soul for my answer.

Harry chuckles softly and in a little boy outburst, he let my head fall against his chest. The vibrations from his laughter make me relax. This is all too strange and although I'm pretending that everything is fine, the truth is that it is not. This terrifies me.

"What happens?" he asks me, running his fingers through my hair.

"I'm scared," I tell him softly, closing my eyes and letting his warmth envelop me.

"You don't have to be scare anymore, love," his voice is just a whisper, but it gives me enough security to open my eyes again. This time, the sky has been dyed black and a huge silver sphere is shining overhead, illuminating everything. Harry's sphere of fire, keeping company with whatever is floating above our heads. "Look. That's you too,” the light, though intense, doesn't hurt me.

"Are you calling me fat, Harry James?" I ask him, throwing my head back to glower at him.

Harry just laughs and holds me tight me against his body.

"No," he leans down and kisses my forehead. “I'm calling you unique,” his eyes sparkle with sincerity. "There is no silver sun on our galaxy."

I stop for a second and think about the words Harry just murmured against my neck.

"How do you know it is a sun?" I ask him. "It could be anything, it could be a moon or a star. Or just a big, fat, shinny silver ballon."

Harry makes a warning sound with his mouth.

"My beloved Draco, there is no way the moon warms the earth," and he smiles. "Not this way."

"Your sun is doing that, Harry," I tell him and in a matter of seconds, Harry's sun disappears. But not the heat.

"You were saying?" a lopsided smile set firmly on his face.

"Ugh, I hate you sometimes," I tell him and cross my arms, a pout planted on my lips. Harry's laugh grows louder. "Bring back your fiery, overgrown pea," I tell Harry. And it appears again after a few seconds. "If I am the silver sun, then are you also a moon of fire?"

Ugh, a headache is starting to make me nauseous. God, this is going to hurt like hell.

"That's right," Harry tells me. “Time to get out of here. You're not quite ready yet. Close your eyes, Dray,” and I diligently obey Harry's command. "Think about our home, back in england, and our daugther, a winged serpent."

I feel my body growing hot all of a sudden. It's making me delirious, as I can feel snity slipping my grip.

And when I open them again, I'm back in Harry's living room. I try to move and the first twinge in my head makes me stop, while the nausea hits me full.

Harry's hands are holding me in place, keeping my body upright. The next thing I know I am in Harry's arms.

“I'm not a babe to be held like this,” I tell him, but still, I hide my head against his chest. "I feel miserable."

"You look miserable," I throw my best glare at him, until a new wave of nause makes me close my eyes. "Sorry," Harry adds over my groan of misery. "Really, I am very sorry."

And from one moment to the next, I feel a fluffy cloud under my body. Madame Pomfrey stops next to me in a few seconds.

"What happened, Mr. Potter?" I can hardly understand what she's saying. The sound causes new needles of pain to dig deep into my skull.

"Harry," is all I can moan, before opening my eyes and seeing little bright spots dance in front of my vision. "Please turn off the light," I tell him, and turn to where I can feel Harry. I curl around myself, trying to keep my food in my stomach.

"It's ok, darling. You can open your eyes, now," he says softly.

I open my eyes and everything is dark.

"Harry," I call out to him again and in a matter of seconds I feel him lie down next to me. I press my forehead against his ribs and squeeze the fabric of his shirt with my hand. "It hurts too much."

"I know, love," he tells me and something cold is set against my cheek. “You'll be fine in a few more hours. Madame Pomfrey has always been good at healing everything."

Her voice makes the pain explode again in my head. Something cold hits my temple and relief returns to me, briefly. I am grateful for this free of pain moment.

"Thank you," I murmur, though I don't know to whom. A new wave of nausea invades me and I try to control my breathing. A hot needle is pushing its way down to my skull.

"Rest now, love," I hear him say in a lower volume of voice.

"Yes, rest well, young Argentum," I hear a voice hissing inside my head. "You will do my bind, soon." I panic as cold, red eyes of snake stares at me. An unmerciful grip is squeezing my chest hard, searching, scorching.

"Harry," I moan his name in pain. "Harry," I shut the gory red-eyes image out of my head. I think of Harry's eyes, bright green emerald eyes. Soft, warm light living inside them.

"Easy, love," he says softly. "You are ok. We are ok." His brushes my cheek, a welcome cool caress. "I got you, now."

"Harry," I call to him a soft whisper. "I love you." I whisper, before I surrender to the dark and make the pain go away with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left comments and kuddos they makes my day/night all better. You can follow me on IG: @GreeneySilvery
> 
> Sometimes I got my moral really down because, some chapters there are just not so much comments as I would like. The thing is, I think I am maturing a bit in this. I am grateful for all of you, who takes the time to write to me. I appreciated a lot. 
> 
> Hugs,  
> GreeneySilvery


End file.
